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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29585808">Our Constellations</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinateuniverse/pseuds/infinateuniverse'>infinateuniverse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>a frequency of our own [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1990s, Alternate Universe, Brain Damage, Character Death, Codependency, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Inspired by Real Events, Mental Health Issues, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Road Trips, Strange Phenomenon, UFOs, past trauma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:29:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>36,638</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29585808</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinateuniverse/pseuds/infinateuniverse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Maddie nods and takes both his hands in hers and makes him look, much like Buck does sometimes, like he does. “Listen to me, Eddie. You have taken care of my brother more than I could have ever asked for. You’ve loved him and cared for him, made him laugh on the worst days. You helped him get out of that RV and into a job. Into better communication, healing, that was you and Buck of course, but- but you were there for him when he needed.”<br/>Eddie tries to argue, to say it was all Buck and that he really didn’t do anything but Maddie cuts him off with a shake to her head and a swift, “No. You. You took care of him for so long, now I think it’s time that you let him take care of you.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evan "Buck" Buckley &amp; Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Past Eddie Diaz/Shannon Diaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>a frequency of our own [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132382</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Part One - i. Leaving Nicon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>i. <em>Leaving Nicon</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Buck.” Eddie says carefully as he walks into the basement of Buck’s house, the key Buck gave him jangling on his key chain in his pocket with his other’s. As soon as the house had a lock and Buck got his own key, Eddie got his. In Buck’s mind this is his house, too. He even has his own bedroom for himself and one for Christopher, although most of their time is spent either on the roof or outside in the grass, Buck with his bare feet and Eddie with his fake leathered shoes.</p><p>“I can’t talk right now, Edmundo. I’m busy.” Buck tells him as he moves quickly, typing on his typewriter and scribbling down notes on papers nearby. He has a big book open to a picture of the moon and other passages on it. Another book is face down, open on a page on something to do with extraterrestrials if Eddie had to guess, either that or early Egyptian lore and myth. Something Buck has picked up in vapid interest ever since Eddie brought him a few books from the library, ones on ancient mysteries. He knew Buck would like that stuff and he thought it might help his difficulty reading. Ever since the ‘accident’ he has had trouble with it. A fact he disclosed to Eddie a while ago, a few years in fact.</p><p>“I can see that, Buck.” Eddie tells him, because he can, and it worries him. Buck may be doing better in his mental capacities, but he still has this innate urge of obsession. He can get lost in something for so long that it’s hard to dig him out of it. Now with his newspaper that he’s started that has soon grown rapid interest, he has become more lost and deep in some kind of ‘rabbit hole.’ Buck used that term once, and Eddie finds that it fits. He knows of Alice and Wonderland, a favourite book of Shannon’s since she was a girl. Was, that is.</p><p>“I came to see if you wanted to stargaze tonight. I brought some eggs, and I’ve been dying for a cup of your most famous.” He flashes Buck a broad grin and waits for him to say something, do something, or better yet to turn around. Have his fingers cease from flying off the keyboard so rapidly, <strong><em>click- click- click</em></strong><em>. </em></p><p> To his relief, it does. Buck pauses, eyes still on the paper in front of him as he asks, “The brown ones?” Eddie chuckles to himself, even after all this time, some things never change.</p><p>“Yeah.” He whispers almost hoarsely, sadly, a time long time gone of old memories. “The brown ones.”</p><p> Buck has a stove in the house, a decent sized kitchen, too, but he never uses it, and Eddie at first was a little annoyed by that (considering he was the one who helped install it along with Bobby), but soon finds that he much prefers it this way. The fire place is out front, and they had discussions about that, too, but Buck insisted on it. Better the front than the back, something about how the stars are positioned. Eddie understood of course, and now here they are, an old pan from nearby placed on top, eggs cracked with perfect precision under Buck’s now steady hands.</p><p> Buck looks to the fire, and to the sky, but he doesn’t look right at Eddie in this moment. He still has a lot of trouble with eye contact. Bobby and Maddie wanted him to get therapy, Buck frowned at that, and Eddie told them plainly that it wasn’t going to happen. Buck gave him a small smile of gratitude for that, and Eddie felt like he was warm all over because of it.</p><p>“Where’s Christopher?” He asks after a beat of a moment, eyes on the grass looking for his feet. Once Christopher turned thirteen, he proclaimed himself as a young man and that he could do whatever he wants when it came to clothing and outward appearance. Eddie never had a problem with that, but apparently that meant walking in bare feet on the grass in solidarity with Buck. Now every time he’s here, the shoes and socks are first to go. Right along with Buck who still hasn’t worn a shoe since. Or socks for that matter. Like right now, although his hair is held together a little more neatly, but still as long as ever. He does have a pair of flip flop sandals, but Eddie’s only ever seen him wear those once before.</p><p>“Sleepover at Denny’s.” Eddie tells him as the eggs sizzle. The coffee in the pot brewing in tangent. It was already to go, as though Buck somehow new he’d be stopping by. Eddie didn’t know that walkie still worked, but it must, and it must be somewhere, although Eddie’s never seen it since. When he asks Christopher about it, he only smiles secretively and that’s that. Eddie supposes that there’s no harm in letting them have a few secrets, him and Buck have a fair share of their own, too. “They wanted to, and I think my aunt needs a night off.”</p><p> Buck frowns at this and his eyebrows scrunch together, fingers tightening on the towel holding the pan. Eddie knows that look, one of concentration and frustration. Buck’s been able to talk more, the aphasia getting better, but on some days it’s harder. More complicated, and then others, Buck just can’t or won’t talk at all. Eddie hates those days the most. He loves to hear Buck speak, big words full of animation and information. Excited and happy, in love with the world and the next. Eddie tries to be there for him. Cover him, hold his hand, sleep outside with him even, but sometimes one just has to ride the tide. Eddie has his bad days, too. Buck is more than understanding on those, so he can be the same with him as well, can’t he?</p><p>“She’s still not doing that great.” Eddie answers the question without words and watches happily as Buck relaxes a little. In truth his aunt has been more and more under the weather lately, Maddie says it’s nothing to worry about. Just to eat more vitamins and get more nutritious foods. That her immune system is a little weakened, but no one is sure why. It could just be age though, she is turning seventy eight in a couple of months.</p><p> Buck slips the eggs onto a plate and hands them over to Eddie’s spot on his own lawn chair. His and Buck’s own, as well as Christopher’s are always unfolded and ready. Buck’s usually with a blanket on top made of all different kinds of colours. The others, their chairs are pushed up to the side of the house, folded up unless they’re here. Eddie leaves his eggs on top and walks over to pour the coffee, bringing the cups over just as Buck’s eggs finish frying.</p><p>“Thank you.” Buck says, a smile on his lips that’s soft and proud.</p><p> Eddie matches it much similar with his own. “You’re welcome, Buck.” He supposes this is why Buck is always in his basement writing. He can put words on paper more easily rather than through his lips where they don’t always get out. Where they sometimes get trapped. Or lost. Breaking apart into something unrecognizable to the average Joe.</p><p> Both of them sit back in their chairs, eggs on light minty coloured plates, a set Maddie got Buck for his birthday last year, something about how he needs a decent set. Their coffee cups are still mismatched though, the same ones from the first time they’ve been here, only before it was in front of an RV, now it’s a house and on land that Buck now officially owns. How things change and yet still manage to stay the same. The lights hanging above are still multi-coloured and run by a power system only Buck knows how to operate and maintain. He was very particular about the power in the house when they were putting it in. Told them all to go for a while, and so they did and when they got back it was all up and running. Buck never explained why or how, only smiling secretively to them all as his eyes landed up in the skies. Christopher laughing from somewhere beside him.</p><p> Now Christopher is almost seventeen, and Buck is heading his own independent newspaper, filled with a lot of extraterrestrial information, but a lot of history, too. Important things that not even Eddie knew. Things he always wished that he had.</p><p>“How’s the newspaper coming, Buck?”</p><p>“All about spells, Edmundo. Spells in our food.”</p><p> Eddie smiles and almost chuckles. “It’s going to be a good one then, isn’t it?”</p><p> Buck doesn’t answer, but his smile says it all, eyes glancing to his own, then back to the stars that they both watch with avid interest.</p><p>…</p><p> His aunt doesn’t get better. It’s slow at first, a small thing really. She needs to go into the hospital because she’s having trouble breathing on her own. Her fever is spiked, and the sickness becomes more somehow, spreading into an infection in her lungs. Maddie is all sorry eyed and apologetic as she explains what’s happened. Eddie is left with bed hair and an undeniable pulling in his gut that won’t go away. Most of Maddie’s words flow right by him, over him, under him, and anywhere that’s directly to him.</p><p>“D- Dad, what if- if she’s- she’s not okay?” Christopher asks as they sit by her bed, her face pinched in pale complexation. She has her own room, a private one with a view and if she was awake, she’d joke about that in their mother tongue. A language that’s always been familiar and soothing to Eddie, despite his parents bickering when he was younger, their hard pressed words as he grew. They were never really parents, not like his aunt. His <em>pepe. </em>She was the real mom in his life, and the only one that truly counted. That stayed.</p><p>“Hey, she’ll be fine. It’s only an infection.” Eddie tries to reassure as he brings Christopher closer to himself. He’s not much of a storyteller despite Buck and Christopher’s reassurances, but he’s always felt that he never does it justice. Not in the way that it deserves, but despite that he starts telling a story now. One filled with vanquished dragons and knights of valour. Christopher’s favourite, Buck’s, too.</p><p> And when he looks up between one story to the next, he finds Buck in the doorway, eyes on his, filled with the tears that Eddie can’t shed. He nods to Eddie and Eddie nods back, and it’s enough of a reassurance for him to continue. To believe in the impossible, that she might be okay, and that it really is nothing, except that she hasn’t woken up for two days. That she’s getting sicker, that her eyes are less and less responsive. When Carla comes to take Christopher home, it’s a Godsend.</p><p>“Is she going to be okay?” Eddie asks, eyes drawn on her shaky breathes, lungs less full by the hour. Buck is beside him now, and there is no one else here save for Maddie outside, just in case. He knows that she should go home to Chimney, and to their kids, but she’s been like a sister. She’s family. Just like Buck, Eddie never questions her desire to stay after she makes that clear.</p><p> Now that Christopher’s gone he should be asking Maddie, she’s the trained physician. A doctor, but Buck is different. He knows things. Sees things that no one else does, and Eddie needs to know the truth. He needs to know, for her very soul. Buck doesn’t answer right away, in fact he doesn’t answer for a long time, but Eddie never pushes him. He stands with fingers clenched together, a jaw locked in, and eyes on his aunt’s closed ones. He waits and waits, until Buck says with such sadness, “No, she’s not.”</p><p> Eddie nods and he’s not angry, not now and not yet at least. He’s accepting, as though he’s been waiting for this to happen. Maybe he has, maybe she has, too. Or maybe he always knew that soon was soon. “I need to call her priest.” Because somewhere down the line it became ‘hers’ instead of ‘ours.’ He still believes. In God and in more than the sum of human’s thoughts and actions, but spending his time with Buck has made him see things differently, and he’s not angry about it. Just a gentle confusion, almost like light snow descending on him slowly and gradually, never ceasing.</p><p> Eddie looks down just as Buck looks up, his hand held up, too. One finger held out and Eddie laughs, watery and a little broken as he puts his own finger up against Buck’s. And then like old times, Buck slots their hands together and offers a strength that’s both profound and unnamed. Something that breeches the psychical level.</p><p>“I’m glad you’re here, Buck.”</p><p> A long pause before, “Me too, Edmundo.”</p><p>He hears a sniffle, and he knows that tonight he’s not the only one grieving.</p><p>…</p><p> Christopher stays with Carla and then Hen comes over with Karen, Denny, and Nia. Eddie thanks them over a phone call and then sits with his aunt as her last rites are given to her. The priest blesses him and Eddie feels like he’s lying somehow. He sits with his aunt and holds her hand, the sun rising up and then lowering, her breathing getting worse, and Maddie giving her some more medication. Anything to keep the worst of it away. Eddie feels her fading and a part of him fades him, too. He’s see death before but somehow this is different, more final. Hits him in a way that even Shannon’s own death never did, and Shannon was his wife, so what does that say about him really?</p><p> It’s the afternoon when Buck comes in with a pudding cup and spoon, he hands them over to Eddie with a soft smile that makes Eddie smile, too. He takes it, sitting up a little straighter as he wipes the sleep out of his eyes. He hasn’t slept, not really, but it’s there ever present. He hasn’t eaten either and truth be told the sight of the pudding doesn’t help his appetite, but Buck is giving him a look that Eddie knows all too well. “I’m not hungry.”</p><p> In his best impression of Eddie, Buck says in a gruffer voice, “’Eating is important, Buck.’”</p><p>Eddie chuckles a little. “I do not sound like that.”</p><p> Buck smiles back and touches his hand, squeezing gently, humour in his eyes that tells Eddie that he really does.</p><p> Buck stays and it’s enough, even when his aunt’s breathing becomes ragged and loose, her eyes dull and half open, mouth, too. She slips into another kind of existence, and Eddie is left hearing her last breath, eyes unseeing, and when she’s gone, he knows without having to have Maddie put the stethoscope to her chest checking for her heart still murmuring. She asks all the same if he wants her to clean her up a little, and Eddie accepts. He wants to decline, to do it for her, but he’s a man and he won’t take her last dignity away from her.</p><p> Buck trails after him like a lost duck all the way to the outside of the hospital. There’s a soft rain falling, colder than it should be, but it is still spring. He knows it’s wrong and that he quit so long ago, but a part of him has broken off into another piece, disappearing to wherever his aunt went, and something else is gone, too. So he takes the cigarette out, the one he bought at the corner store down the street, and tries to light it, does his best but it just won’t.</p><p> His hands are shaking and his bones are rubbery. Eyes watering before he even realizes that it’s possible. The rain falls and warm steady hands come out to take the lighter from his, hands he recognizes as Buck’s. Their eyes meet briefly and Eddie takes the cigarette out of his mouth. He presses a hand to his forehead, as though he’s pressing his brain inside, as though to try and keep it there. And then a shaky exhale before he’s crouching down on the sidewalk, head in his hands and a grief building in his heart, not just for his <em>pepe</em>, but for Shannon, or all the ones that he’s lost.</p><p> Buck doesn’t try to touch him, but he crouches down, too, and in the darkening night, looks up and says, “The moon is half full tonight, Edmundo. Isn’t it beautiful?”</p><p> Eddie bites his lip and holds it all in, back, and as much as he can before he looks up and nods, because yeah, it is beautiful. And they stay like that for as long as Eddie needs, until the shaking stops, and the furling of unmade smoke, fades. But the moon never does. It stands in the sky and shines. And if Eddie wills himself enough to allow, he can feel God shine, too.</p><p>…</p><p> Christopher’s birthday is a few months after the funeral, two and a little more to be exact, Eddie doesn’t let it get in the way of his sweet seventeenth that also doubles graduation from the eleventh grade into the twelfth. Christopher wants it at Buck’s and Buck is more than happy to comply. He has his extra coffee machine brought out, only one cup of coffee for Christopher, Eddie’s orders. The rest will be hot chocolate, Buck tells him that he can invite whoever he wants but Christopher decides to keep it mostly family for the time being. Eddie comes by early to help set up the lawn chairs and streamers, a radio playing on the forefront, an old station with old tunes that Eddie always thought Christopher would grow out of liking, but he’s turning more into Buck by the day rather than himself. He should be jealous or angry, but he’s far too fond for either.</p><p>“Maddie’s coming by with Christopher in thirty minutes along with Chimney, Reilly and Payton.” Eddie tells Buck as they finish unfolding the chairs. A fire is already going in the fireplace and Christopher’s favourite vanilla bean cake is in the fridge. Homemade by Carla and Buck just a day ago. Vanilla ice cream in the fridge and enough chips and snacks to feed a family of fifty. Perfect then for their family of eighteen plus Christopher’s two best friends, Mikey and Alex. “The others will be here sometime after. Have we got the Cheetos? And popcorn, right? They’re Christopher’s-”</p><p>“Favourite.” Buck finishes for him, a grin so big and wide that it makes Eddie stop for a moment and match it, his heart skipping a small beat.</p><p>“I’m nervous.” He admits, something he hadn’t been able to do for a long time, but as they grew closer it became easier to feel. To be. Buck is much the same with him, but it’s between them and Eddie likes it that way.</p><p>“It will be fine, Edmundo, the stars are bright and the music is loud. Grass is warm, too.” Buck wiggles his toes in it with excitement and Eddie laughs. He still wears his faux leather shoes but he can’t help but smile and nod at Buck’s lack of any footwear.</p><p>“I can see that.” Eddie stills though as that old dark familiar cloud passes by him. Thoughts and memories of his aunt’s greying eyes. He tries not to think of her like that, instead thinking of her brilliant smile and hugs that were all bone, but all love, too. And her food! Her food was divine. Always made one warm, as though you’re insides were getting a hug, too. “I just want it to be perfect for him, he’s been through a lot, Buck.”</p><p> Buck loses his smile a little, eyes serious as he steps forward and touches Eddie’s arm firmly, making him look at him before he says, “It is. It will be.”</p><p> Something tells Eddie that he means more than this party, but he can’t afford to think like that right now, besides he hears the car coming, so he nods and says, “Thanks, Buck.” His own hand on Buck’s for a moment before the Buckley-Han’s car stops close by.</p><p>“Oh, crap, forgot the food bowls.” They’ve set out long tables up against the house under the small roof to protect it from rain. Right where the coffee machines and cups are, plates too, but no utensils, and eggs. Lined up neatly for later. Buck only grins though at Eddie’s predicament and salutes. “On it, deputy.”</p><p> He slips back into the house as Christopher slips out of the car. “H- Hey, dad! It l- looks great!”</p><p>“Hey, buddy.” Eddie’s smile is blinding as he gives him a soft one armed hug.</p><p>“Where’s Buck?”</p><p>“Getting the food.”</p><p>“You left him to get it himself?” Maddie asks with concern, but more teasing than anything. She does have a point though, it’s a lot of food.</p><p>“I wanna elp!” Reilly says loudly as Payton begins to fuss in Maddie’s arms.</p><p>“I think your daddy ought to help this time, don’t you?” Maddie looks to her husband for support and Chimney already has his door shut, a nod with a, “I’m on it,” as he heads inside. The streamers blowing softly in a soft oncoming summer’s breeze.</p><p>“Looks great, Eddie.”</p><p>“Only for the best.” Eddie replies as he looks to his son who’s almost as tall as him now. Christopher smiles big and wide as Eddie longs for the days where he could pick him up and fly him around. His little superman. “Come on, we better help, Buck, too. We got enough food to feed the army.”</p><p>“Ro- Roger that C- Captain.”</p><p> The food is good, it’s late out and water is left for everyone. Juice and soda, and the music’s right, the fire, too. Christopher laughs and jokes with his friends, and the cake is a big hit. Buck smiles bashfully as Carla tells them all that he did most of it. Eddie never knew Buck to be much of a baker or cook until Bobby started giving him lessons on cooking, and Carla on baking. Now it’s something he really enjoys and he doesn’t like to eat out so it works out perfectly. Since his aunt has been gone though, Buck has been cooking him and Christopher some meals. He knows how Eddie burns everything, and in turn Eddie can’t really argue with that, he tries to say no, but Buck insists. And Christopher needs to eat.</p><p>“T- Those e- eggs were del- delicious, Buck!” Christopher exclaims as he sits back on the chair, hand on his stomach. The others are all around, talking amongst themselves, Athena and Hen, Bobby and Chimney with Josh. Karen, Maddie, and Carla. The kids are having the time of their life running from one spot to the next as the music moves them, Chimney occasionally running after them as the monster. A sort of tag game that May rolls her eyes at but indulges anyway. Her semester has already ended, Mellissa’s too, Carla’s daughter. Her son, Richard is off up north working in the mines so he couldn’t make it but maybe another time. The Wilson’s, Denny and Nia run with Harry, not yet old enough to stop enjoying the game, and Reilly and Juniper. Happy as can be. Juniper being Athena and Bobby’s own perfect bundle. And then of course there’s Payton, but she’s too young to be running in grass, not yet a year old. She was quite the surprise.</p><p> Christopher’s friends are around him, smiling and laughing about the latest superhero comic, Christopher chiming in it, too. Buck and Eddie relaxing across from them, eyes mostly trained on the skies as the stars light down on them all. It’s a beautiful night, and it is a beautiful party. They try to get together once a month, all of them, but it’s hard. Eddie’s glad that it worked out tonight, but he knows without a doubt that they all would have made time regardless. No one can say no to Christopher.</p><p>“D- Dad?” Christopher asks, almost afraid.</p><p> Eddie looks over, concern growing in his chest, but what he sees is a hesitant happiness. Christopher’s smile is unsure but excited, and Eddie is a little more than concerned now. “Is this about the trip to the capitol? We talked about this Christopher, it’s just not-”</p><p>“N- No, dad, it’s- it’s something el- else.”</p><p>“What?” It’s then that Eddie starts to notice the others paying attention, hum of talking and laughter gone as Buck bites his lip anxiously, almost until it bleeds, his fingers moving in nervous movements. Eddie hates with he does that and without thought, he reaches out and Buck smiles so soft as he touches his fingers with his and holds their hands together, the tremors and anxiety stopped if only a little.</p><p>“I want y- you to go w- with, Buck.” Christopher continues.</p><p> Eddie looks to him and asks, “Go where?”</p><p>“A road trip, Edmundo, me and you.” Buck’s smile is large and Eddie feels his heart fall into his stomach because he knows that he’s going to have to say no. He can’t leave Christopher alone, and he can’t leave with how things are right now. His aunt just died, there’s still so much that needs to be taken care of, even if it has been a few months.</p><p>“Christopher…”</p><p>“We’ll take care of him.” Maddie says quickly as she steps forward, Payton asleep in her arms, Chimney right beside her with a defiant nod.</p><p>“We all will.” Athena speaks up.</p><p> The others step forward with their own nods and reassurances, and Eddie feels the sudden urge to cry. A warmth blossoming in his chest that rings of family and home, a warmth he thought he lost with his aunt. He looks between them and still wants to argue, but Buck’s hand squeezes in his, a pleading his eyes, a look that lasts. Christopher is right there with them, “P- Please, dad.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, buddy, but after, after your aunt, I- I can’t just go.”</p><p> The heartbreak moves from Christopher to Buck who tries his best to hide it and Eddie feels like he’s free falling until Maddie hands her daughter off to Chimney and nods her head to the house. “Help me get some more ice, Eddie.” Eddie feels like that’s the last thing he should do but the silence is deafening, an uncommon occurrence when they’re all together, even the kids look confused until Bobby says, “Monster’s going to get you!”</p><p> They all go screaming in joy and delight as Eddie stands up and follows Maddie into the kitchen, but as he looks back to their ice supply he finds it very much well stocked up. Still, he humours her until they’re inside, alone in the kitchen, and Maddie is looking at him almost sagely. He knows what’s coming.</p><p>“I can’t go.” He tells her.</p><p>“Why not?” Maddie says, but before Eddie can give an answer, Maddie holds up her hands to stop him. “I know why, okay? But we can take care of Christopher, and he’s seventeen now, that boy can almost take care of himself now. Besides, Eddie…”</p><p> She steps forward and takes his hand gently in hers, a friendly gesture that screams of family. Of a sister he never knew he wanted or needed. Over the years they’ve grown close, at first Eddie missed his own sisters, but Maddie is kind and fierce, and they’ve bonded over Buck in an odd way. They both love him more than words can express, albeit a little differently. “Eddie, you haven’t been okay in a long time. I know that you’re trying, but you’re still… Eddie you still wear your wedding ring.”</p><p> Eddie looks away now, a little ashamed at the realization of it all. How right Maddie is, how right they all are. But try as he might, he just couldn’t take it off. He’s not ready to let go of her, even if she’s let go of him. “She was my wife.” He says into the emptiness it leaves, eyebrows scrunched up and that old familiar grief sweeping in.</p><p> Maddie nods and takes both his hands in hers and makes him look, much like Buck does sometimes, like he does. “Listen to me, Eddie. You have taken care of my brother more than I could have ever asked for. You’ve loved him and cared for him, made him laugh on the worst days. You helped him get out of that RV and into a job. Into better communication, healing, that was you and Buck of course, but- but you were there for him when he needed.”</p><p> Eddie tries to argue, to say it was all Buck and that he really didn’t do anything but Maddie cuts him off with a shake to her head and a swift, “No. You. You took care of him for so long, now I think it’s time that you let him take care of you.”</p><p> Eddie wants to argue some more, but it strikes a chord within him, because he knows how much Buck pulls on him, pulls to let him in. How much Eddie tries to, but can’t. How they’re stuck in this… In-between. How he is. “I know it sounds crazy, but when I did my psychiatric rounds, lots of patients found after a change of scenery things helped, and- and I think you should go on a road trip with Buck, and find yourself, or whatever.”</p><p> She chuckles at those last words, and so Eddie, although his laughter is tinged in more darker emotions. When they finish, Maddie asks, “Okay?” And Eddie takes a moment to really think about it, because it does sound nice. Him and Buck on open road, no work and as much as he loves Christopher, he knows that he wouldn’t have to worry. All these people here are family. They’ll take care of him. Love him like he does. Being with Buck will be nice, too, they haven’t seen enough of each other lately, what with Buck’s newspaper and work. With the grief and the nightmares. “Okay?” She asks again.</p><p> Eddie licks his lips and nods, almost reluctantly. “Okay.”</p><p> She hugs him closer and he lets her, hugging back almost as strongly as he realizes he hasn’t a proper hug from anyone other than Christopher in a long time, not even from Buck.</p><p>“Road trip’s on, guys!” Maddie says proudly as they step into the backyard. There’s cheers from everyone and a silent reassurance from Athena that his job will be here when he returns. Christopher hugs him tight and says, “I’m p- proud of you d- dad.”</p><p> Buck gives him a wide grin and thumbs up that Eddie matches. “We’re taking the car though.” He says sternly.</p><p> Buck frowns and tilts his head. “RV?” He tries.</p><p>“Nope. Car. Those are my conditions.”</p><p>“Then I pick the waves.” Buck says back, meaning the radio station of course. Eddie knows Buck well enough to know that much and more, and he wants to argue but if Buck is willing to leave the RV behind, than he supposes that’s fair.</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p> Buck narrows his eyes and holds out his hand to shake after fake spitting on it, almost like an old western movie or something. Eddie doesn’t let that deter him as he does the same, his own eyes pinched in a narrow gaze on Buck. Everyone around them laughing at their antics, but most of them don’t, because most of them are used to it by now.</p><p>“We leave at high noon.”</p><p>…</p><p> It is indeed high noon when Eddie finds himself in front of Buck’s place, Buck standing outside with all of his things lined up by his feet. He wears sunglasses and a big sweater over his skinny frame, shielding himself from the sun. Eddie inwardly curses as he remembers that just because Buck is okay with being in the sun now, he’s not <em>great</em>. “Sorry, Buck.” He tells him as he quickly gets out to help Buck load up the car. It’s Buck’s car, he let him borrow it last night because Buck knows how much the truck is the best vehicle for Christopher, and how Eddie wouldn’t want to take it with them, how he’d rather leave it for Christopher.</p><p> Buck smiles but it’s a little strained. “It’s all groovy, Edmundo.” He tells him as they load up the trunk with Buck’s duffle bag, an old brown thing with enough patches to make a few quilts, and a box filled with a telescope. Eddie raises his eyebrows at that but Buck only shrugs, a sheepish smile on his lips and a hidden look behind those frames. The next thing there is and the last are a tent and a few basic supplies in another duffle. Eddie knows what’s inside without having to look, he and Buck, and Christopher have gone camping together a few times before, and Buck always keeps a good amount of necessities in this duffle for such occasions. Always on the ready. ‘<em>You never know, Edmundo.’</em> Buck will say.</p><p> They climb into the front, Eddie driving and it’s time to go. It should be easy to start up the car again and drive away, but it’s really not. There’s a lingering hesitancy and uncertainty that drifts by him like a breeze among trees. Christopher is safe with the Buckley-Han’s, but Eddie still feels off, unsure. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t left Nicon County in almost six years. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t left the state in almost ten. Or maybe it’s about his son. About how the fact is that the last time he left was just after he was born, signing up for another tour in ‘nam, Shannon screaming at him to stay. They ended up losing so much time because of it.</p><p>“Are your roads clear?” Buck asks, and even though there are dark shades over his ice blue eyes, Eddie can see the tilt in his head, the soft question that tells Eddie either or. It’s up to him, is what Buck is trying to say. Is his head clear, is he okay to go? Or would he rather stay? Either way, Buck is fine with it, even if his fingers tighten in his sweater sleeve despite the heat, showing how much he wants them to be clear. Buck wants this trip as much as he is starting to.</p><p>“Yeah, Buck, they’re clear.” His voice is more gentle than he means for it to be, a sudden urge to hold Buck’s hand. He doesn’t though, not yet and not right now. Instead he starts the engine and they take off. Barely making it out of the county before Buck is fiddling with the radio knobs and landing on an old Air Supply song, one of Shannon’s favourites, Eddie recalls. Eddie wants to tell Buck to turn it off, to stop, but a part of him preens at the memories. Loves the way they encompass him just as they fade, slipping from his fingers in a quiet and uneventful release. He can feel the ghost of Shannon’s lips on his one last time. His aunt’s on his cheek.</p><p>“<em>I’m all out of love, I’m so lost without you!</em>” Buck sings at the top of his lungs, all off note and filled with laughter, with a joy that Eddie begins to feel, too. Something that’s lapsed, that’s faded with a long held back tide, and now comes back full force. He drives on and without even thinking about it, sings back, “<em>I know you were right, believing for so long!</em>”</p><p> And then together, “<em>I’m all out of love, what am I without you?!</em>”</p><p> Eddie laughs and Buck laughs, and the sun shines high as they sing along and drive into a new kind of existence. Maybe this road trip won’t be so bad, and maybe Buck picking the waves was best for them both. Maybe Eddie wants it all, too. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. ii. Nightmares</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>ii. <em>Old Nightmares</em> </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> They drive throughout the day, the sun bothering Buck the whole way there, wherever there is exactly, Eddie isn’t sure. Whenever he asks Buck just smiles all secretive and pulls out his little black book, one that Eddie recognizes almost immediately. A year or so after they met, Buck had started bringing this book out more and more. Eddie has been able to sneak a couple of peeks, but all he saw were messy scribbles. A bunch of names and random things that Buck insists are deathly important. Things that Buck writes about in his newspaper and researches strategically. Little mysteries of the world is what Eddie would call it, an extension of Buck’s brain and thought processes. When Eddie asks where they’re going, Buck pulls it out and gives out a ‘two hundred miles’ or something of the sort. Never an exact name or location. “So it’s a mystery then, is it?” Eddie will ask.</p>
<p> Buck smiles. “Focus on the road, Edmundo.” Is his cryptic reply as he pushes up his sunglasses and leans back in his seat, his sweater pulled closer to him to block more of the sun. Eddie vows to get used to driving in the night after this. It’s probably quieter, too.</p>
<p> The time they hit their destination as Buck calls it, it’s well past eight, the sun close to slipping behind the horizon. They’ve made it to a small town just outside Jericho and Eddie is wondering why here of all places Buck told him to stop. “Are you sure, Buck?”</p>
<p>“Rest and stop.” Buck says simply as they pull into a nearby motel. It’s mostly empty and Eddie wants to argue that they could keep driving, but by the heavy set of Buck’s face, he knows that’s not an option. Buck’s got a tight routine, and despite the messiness of his life and thoughts in his mysteries book, he’s pretty orderly. He doesn’t like things going out of focus, or off hand, which makes sense, considering what happened. A normal routine call that ended in something so not.</p>
<p> Eddie pushes those thoughts away as he heads out of the car and walks up to the door to head inside, to book a room. He does not need to be thinking about this. In fact, he’s pretty tired. He feels a deep seeded exhaustion creeping into his bones, and as he asks for a double bed room, he really begins to feel tired. He doesn’t in fact remember the last time he could just sit and not have to worry. About his thoughts and actions, about Buck, or Christopher. His aunt, his job, and even Shannon, despite the heaviness of his ring. For the first time in a long time, those weights recede quite a lot.</p>
<p>“Enjoy your stay.” The lobby clerk hands the two keys over and Eddie smiles in kind. He heads outside and finds Buck with his knees to his chest, cheek presses against white washed jeans. He looks happy. Somewhat content, as though they were on a nice relaxing beach somewhere instead of strange small town at a three star motel. It makes Eddie relax all the more, a sleepy grin on his features as he knocks on the window and watches as Buck barely startles. He reaches out and unlocks the door and Eddie hops in, driving them up to their room. “I got us a double, small TV and I made sure there was a coffee machine.”</p>
<p> Buck smiles a little wider as Eddie parks. “Help me carry the bags in?” They leave the survival equipment and take only Buck’s duffle and Eddie’s own into the small musky room. It’s filled with leaf styled blankets and an old painting above that screams motel art. A landscape of a forest that makes Eddie’s eyes prim with tears. He’s not sure why. The TV and coffee machine are on the other side, a phone too.</p>
<p>“I should call Christopher.” Eddie says, but despite how much he knows that he should and wants to, his body calls him towards the shower. His limbs and soul ache in weariness to crawl under the beds with hot skin from a too hot shower, and drift in itchy sheets. Dry skin and the smell of a faint pool.</p>
<p>“I’ll call him.” Buck says as he removes the shades, finally. The curtains are drawn and neither attempts to open them. The door is securely locked by Buck who checks a few extra times, and then he’s smiling at Eddie as they both dump their bags on their beds. “Enjoy the rain, Edmundo.”</p>
<p> Eddie feels the need to argue rising up within, but he sees how much Buck means it, how much he smiles to it so Eddie nods. “Okay. If he wants to talk to me, I’ll call him back.”</p>
<p> Buck winks, and Eddie nods, trusting him more than anyone with his son as he heads into the shower, his bag in his hand again. The water is indeed hot, he pulls it too hard to the right until he’s burning up inside and out, the water cascading around, but it’s not an uncomfortable burning. It’s like a fever, as though he’s burning a bunch of toxins out or something. The germs. Some kind of sickness that has grabbed hold but now falls away with him. He shudders a breath and slips his wedding ring into his bag. His clothes are simple, a white tee shirt and boxers. He’s in a haze of tiredness, a yawn escaping as the world becomes dimmer, fuzzier in sleep.</p>
<p> He doesn’t even realize that the blankets were thrown back until the morning, but for now, he slips in and under unawares of the way Buck’s small movements of sheets, sheds the light into his care. His love. How he’s taking care of Eddie now just as much as he has taken care of Buck. He rolls over and presses his hot face into cool sheets, a soft hand trailing along his hair, a ghost of a whispered breath along his ear. “<em>Sleep tight.</em>”</p>
<p>…</p>
<p> But he doesn’t sleep tight, instead he wakes up a few hours later, groggy and mouth full of cotton. A muffled scream as his legs tangle with motel sheets. Arms around his, hands grabbing at them to let him loose. Eddie can still taste the blood in his mouth, sees in the elevator’s metal a face that is not his own, eyes too blue, and smile too bright. A trapped feeling that will never fade, a weighted stone on his chest as he stands knee deep in <em>meat</em>.</p>
<p>“Shh, it’s okay, Edmundo, it’s okay.” Arms encircle him, hands holding him down and he’s no longer trapped. The grip is loose, he can get away any time, but he doesn’t want to. He knows him. Knows Buck like his own second skin. He pulls him toward himself in the dark and wraps arms around him, face pushed into his shoulder, breathing him in. Comforting and grounding himself in the fact that he’s not in an elevator, and neither is Buck. That Buck never has to be again.</p>
<p> A silence stretches, himself still half asleep when Buck whispers, fingers running through his hair in gentle strokes, “I have nightmares, too.”</p>
<p> Eddie feels his breath leave him for an entirely different reason now as he holds on to Buck even more tightly.</p>
<p>“The stars still shine, and the moon is still there. The grass is warm and the eggs are tasty. And if that doesn’t help, I have this.”</p>
<p> Eddie feels him move away a little, rummaging through his bag on the floor. Eddie can’t help but let out a soft barely there whine at the loss of contact. He hasn’t been held like this in so long. Cared for. Loved. It’s overwhelming. Addicting. He doesn’t want it to go. He doesn’t want Buck to. ‘I’m right here,’ Buck says it with the way he continues to thread his fingers through Eddie’s hair, down to his back, rubbing along warmly. He’s barely gone before he’s there again, a soft plush teddy bear brought between them both. Eddie laughs wetly with tears.</p>
<p>“Christopher said I could keep it.”</p>
<p> Eddie doesn’t know how to ask, but Buck understands.</p>
<p>“He’s fine. Him, Harry, and Denny are making a fort out back with Bobby. But it’s not fair. Why couldn’t they do it when I was there?”</p>
<p> Eddie laughs, and feels as Buck smiles, and somewhere in all of that, he drifts into a new kind of slumber, one void of nightmares and terror. Instead, one filled with laughter and stars. And forts of sticks and grass. And all good things.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p> Eddie wakes up groggily to the smell of fresh coffee. His face is full of that fresh generic brand laundry soap, sheets of white all crisp and dry. He reaches out automatically for something or someone, but he comes up empty, forcing him to sit up in worry. He always worries for Buck, knows he’s more than okay now, but still worries. What he finds in his half sleep state is Buck bent over the small desk by the motel’s television, staring intently at the coffee machine as it sputters the hot and dark liquid out.</p>
<p> The night comes back to him then, the nightmare and the fear, Buck’s soft hands and his knotty hair. A teddy bear, Eddie vaguely recalls as he looks around for it, but just as suddenly as it appeared, it’s now gone. “Buck?” He asks, because he’s sure it’s not morning. It doesn’t take the lack of light seeping out of the motel’s long and drab curtains, heavy with thick material to tell him that. He feels as though he’s coming up from some abyss, a long nap that happens in the thick of the afternoon, unexpected and unhelped. He tries to wipe the sleep away, but he’s more than a little groggy. “What time is it?”</p>
<p>“Shh.” Is Buck’s only response, eyes still lost on the coffee machine as it continues to sputter, almost done now. Eddie looks to the clock on the nightstand and finds the time to be just after two in the morning. Why Buck is awake at this time is really no mystery, why he is though, that is.</p>
<p>“I’m going back to sleep.”</p>
<p>“No!” Buck’s eyes snap over to his, a little panicked. “We have lots to do, Edmundo, we don’t have time for dreams.”</p>
<p>“Fine, alright, but that better be an extra strong pot for me.” Eddie says with his hands held up in acceptance. Buck’s only holding lightly in his pocket where Eddie knows his black book sits. Have to be on schedule, whatever kind of schedule Buck has cooked up. It seems he’s thought more about this road trip than Eddie himself, but the again Buck always used to go on road trips with the RV. Maddie and the others told him, but Buck hadn’t gone on one since he arrived. Maybe he’s making up for lost time. Either way, Eddie’s on board, and he’s too tired to argue anyway.</p>
<p>“Let me hit the head.” He says quietly as he walks by Buck and heads into the bathroom. He just had a shower and something tells him that they don’t have time for that, so Eddie makes do with a quick bathroom break and some water run through his hair, a little hair gel, too. A sleepy smile on his lips as he puts a little extra in. He already knows what Buck’s going to say.</p>
<p> And right on cue as he walks out for his bag and slips on some jeans, Buck says with crossed and narrowed eyes, almost a look of disgust as he hands Eddie a dark cup of coffee, “Too much hair gel, Edmundo.”</p>
<p> Eddie smirks as he buttons his jeans and reaches out with his free hand, the other occupied with the sweet and delicious smell of coffee. He lightly touches Buck’s long locks and says, “I’ll stop with the hair gel when you cut the mane.” Buck tugs out of his light hold with a glare, but it’s all teasing as Eddie matches it with his own, sipping the coffee in relief.</p>
<p> Buck has his own, drinking it down all the more faster as he tells Eddie, “We’re late.”</p>
<p>“Let me finish this cup first.”</p>
<p>“I’ve already checked us out.”</p>
<p> Eddie pauses at that as he looks to Buck’s impassive expression, eyes turning to the clock again. “You checked us out at two in the morning?”</p>
<p>“Yes. Hurry up, Edmundo, I’ve got your bag.” And before Eddie can blink Buck does have his bag, coffee mug balanced in his other hand as he opens the motel door and drifts outside. The air outside indeed dark and cooling.</p>
<p> Eddie’s left a little gobsmacked as he realizes that Buck has his keys too and his own bag is gone. He should be used to this kind of stuff by now, and yet he’s still surprised by Buck. Still can be, and well isn’t that something? Still, his laughter is more fond than angry, too tired to be as he follows after Buck. Trailing him into the car. It’s only when he’s got the door closed that he realizes they’re both holding the motel’s cream coloured mugs in each hand, filled with coffee, but still on the cusp of stealing.</p>
<p>“We have to put these back.” Eddie tells Buck, but he makes no move to do so as he stares at that delicious black oasis.</p>
<p> Buck chuckles like that is indeed funny. “Buck, I’m practically a cop.”</p>
<p>“Small town deputy.” Is Buck’s response, smile on his lips tinged in sheepishness, in shenanigans if Eddie really had to guess. It reminds him of when Buck and Christopher tried to pull a fast one on him and decorate his birthday cake last year with an icing toilet, curtesy of a certain call he answered the previous few months ago. The one everyone still laughs about, and something Eddie doesn’t want to be reminded of, let alone on his birthday cake.</p>
<p> Eddie grumbles, but Buck only reaches over and turns the keys, the radio lighting up, and his quick hands finding a new kind of channel. One filled with dark mysteries it seems. “Fine.” Eddie grumbles and then they’re off, Buck smiling in victory the whole way there, wherever there is. And well, sometimes mysteries are a good thing, Eddie supposes, in this context at least.</p>
<p>“<em>I’m Art Bell, and you’re listening to Midnight in the Desert, tonight we are talking about the Men in Black. The Men in Black, and that’s right folks, they are not what you would think that they are according to many eyewitness accounts…” </em></p>
<p>…</p>
<p> He’s almost done his coffee, and a quarter way into this show when his stomach starts growling. Eddie pauses just as Buck does. He forgot the last time he was supposed to eat, which is odd for him, he’s usually really good in figuring it out for Buck but they didn’t exactly bring snacks yesterday and then they just fell asleep when they stopped at the motel. They were just at a gas station too before heading out of town, but he was so tired that he forgot, except that it seems Buck hasn’t as he reaches into the dash and pulls out two big granola bars, the kind Eddie buys for him and keeps in his car. An old habit he did for Christopher, that Shannon used to do.</p>
<p> His wedding ring. It’s an echo of a thought that passes by him lightly as Buck smiles at him sheepishly, one of the bars handed out to him. Their coffee swishing around slightly in their mugs set in the cup rests, mostly gone but not quite. “Buck we should eat something healthy.” He tells him but it’s not quite there, he’s still too tired and too hungry to argue all that much. Buck must sense that because he only smiles a little more and pushes it towards him.</p>
<p>“Fine.” Eddie sighs and takes the bar, opening it with his teeth before Buck can protest and do it for him. Something Eddie somehow knows he mourns at the loss of being able to do for him. It leaves him sorry for a moment, and regretful. He knows Buck pulling the sheet back and the coffee, the bars, it’s Buck’s way of taking care of him. Caring for him. Silently but surely. He knows how much Buck likes doing these things. How much he does, too, and how much he’s starting to like Buck doing these things for him.</p>
<p>“It’s uh, a good radio- good waves.” Eddie tells him, not so eloquently put as he’d like, but he’s somewhat nervous and achy in his chest. Still so tired as the stars and moon shine on, the sun still in its distant slumber.</p>
<p> All the same, Buck smiles wide and then says, “Right.”</p>
<p> Eddie almost swerves the car into a ditch as he tries to keep up, almost missing the right turn all together. “Buck-” He’s almost angry but when he looks to Buck, he’s holding both their mugs up and smiling all sheepish again. Eddie sighs with a shake of his head and grabs his mug to finish the coffee off. He can’t stay mad at Buck when he’s looking at him like that, when his cheeks are indented in dimples, and his eyes blue as ever as they turn back out to the side of the car, to his window, and gazes intently back up at the stars. His own coffee, sipped into nonexistence.</p>
<p> Eddie knows he should have got it before, about how unusual and strange, maybe even odd this road trip is going to be, but it’s not until this moment that he realizes what he’s truly in for. Mysteries are just the half of it, and it’s bold and so out of his normal that he almost regrets coming, but spending time with Buck always leaves him warm and happy, and somewhat safe. With Christopher here it would almost be perfect, but he’s older now and Maddie did have a point, Eddie knows she did, that they all did.</p>
<p> He tries not to dwell on it any longer, that or his empty fingers as they drive into a small city, not a town but a small city, a good sized one if Eddie had to guess. Nothing like El Paso, but big enough. Buck tells him simple instructions until they drive up to a hotel. At first Eddie gets excited thinking that maybe they’re going to have a nice rest and some real food, but the sign on the front door saying, ‘<strong><em>Who Is Bigfoot?</em></strong>’ squashes all of that.</p>
<p> Eddie finds his eyes on Buck’s as the clock above in the lobby strikes five in the morning. “Bigfoot?” He asks, words barely there, more mouthing them as they get closer to reception. Buck only looks back with a soft laugh.</p>
<p>“It’s going to be great, Edmundo.” Buck’s smile is genuinely happy as they are pointed to the basement of the hotel. As though they ran out of conference rooms, but something tells Eddie that’s not the case. He doesn’t expect there to be many people at these things but when they step in they find a good crowd scattered among chairs, but the best part is the table filled with complimentary coffee and donuts.</p>
<p>“Welcome, to this seminar, ‘Who is Bigfoot?’” The man says up front, Eddie has no idea of his name as he snags a cup and a donut, Buck ignoring the donut in favour of only coffee which Eddie frowns at. He needs to eat too, but he doesn’t say anything as the guy has started talking and his own manners sink in. Even if he does think this stuff is a little crazy, most people think God is crazy, too, these days, and isn’t it that sad?</p>
<p>“Who is Bigfoot? The Sasquatch? ‘Little furry people’? Well, this morning I’d like to delve into that, and unlike the likes of John Napier, I will not be dismissing accounts that do not line up with my logic and reasoning. I will be taking a thorough and appreciative look through the evidence and present it here today with all of you, and maybe we can all figure this mystery out. How does that sound?”</p>
<p> A round of applause cuts through, from Buck, too.</p>
<p>Eddie sips his coffee.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p> He finds an excuse to get away half way through to use the John, but after he’s done he doesn’t want to go back, his fingers are empty and he thinks of Christopher, and even though it’s six in the morning he asks the reception for their phone lines and pays to have a call put through. It rings for a while before Chimney picks up with, “<em>Han residence.</em>”</p>
<p>“Isn’t it Buckley-Han?” Eddie can’t help but ask, a teasing tone in his voice, vibrating across his lips. He didn’t realize how much he sees Chimney and the others until he hasn’t. But mostly he misses Christopher. He’s never been away from him for so long, and he knows it’s only been a day, and he trusts Buck to know when he’s okay, but he just wants to talk to him. He took his wedding ring off, and he needs to talk to someone who loved her as much as he did. Is that selfish? Or stupid?</p>
<p>“<em>Eddie, it’s six in the morning, man.</em>” Laughter in his voice before he turns serious. “<em>Is it Buck? Is he okay?</em>”</p>
<p>“What? Uh, no, he’s fine. I just wanted to talk to my son. Is he up?”</p>
<p>“<em>Um, no, but- oh, wait, here he is.</em>”</p>
<p> Before Eddie can blink a cheerful but tired voice filters through, his son more precious than anything. Eddie immediately feels a stab of guilt for waking him up, as though he did the worse thing wrong. “<em>Dad? Ar- are you o- okay?</em>”</p>
<p>“Yeah, buddy, I’m sorry. I just missed you.”</p>
<p>“<em>I missed y- you, t- too. But you’re on v- vacation, dad.</em>” Christopher sounds almost stern, as though he were the parent in this situation.</p>
<p> Eddie sighs softly. “I- I know. I just…” He can’t talk about this with his kid. He may be seventeen, but he’s still young. Too young, but then again Christopher’s always been smarter than even Eddie has realized at times, than anyone gives him credit for.</p>
<p>“<em>I- It’s about m- mom, isn’t it?</em>”</p>
<p> Eddie swallows something down, thickly. He doesn’t know how to answer that, what to really say. Maybe he shouldn’t have called, or maybe this is exactly what they both needed, not just him. Maybe he’s been selfish. “Yeah, buddy.”</p>
<p>“<em>I miss her t- too, dad. B- But I had a dream, and I- I think she’s wi- with pepe now.</em>”</p>
<p> Eddie freezes, his heart coiled and his skin on fire. “Did you?”</p>
<p>“<em>Y- yeah. Sh- She kissed my cheek and s- said she ha- had to go now. But that sh- she wasn’t worried because o- of you an- and Buck, and the oth- others. She al- also said t- to kick anyone in the ass wh- who says I can’t play socc- soccer.</em>”</p>
<p> Eddie laughs, wetly as the tears come without even realizing that they’ve started, because that’s Shannon alright. His wife. Christopher’s mom. A woman who was out to change the world, a fire in her bones that couldn’t burn away fucking cancer. <em>A limitless life. </em></p>
<p>“I love you, Christopher.”</p>
<p>“<em>I l- love you, t- too. But d- dad?</em>”</p>
<p>“Yeah, buddy?” He wipes the tears away, sniffling slightly.</p>
<p>“<em>If y- you ca- call again I- I’ll kick you in the a- ass.</em>” Christopher is grinning, Eddie can hear it, and it makes him laugh all over again. Maybe cry, too. Their kid really got the best they had to offer, didn’t he? Maybe some things of his own, too, a whole lot more if Eddie had to guess. He’s so much more than they’ve ever been, or were.</p>
<p>“How about twice a week I call to check in?”</p>
<p>“<em>O- Once.</em>”</p>
<p> Eddie smiles for a new reason now, and let’s tears fall just the same. “Deal.” And when did he get so soft, huh? Probably around the time Christopher grew up, he surmises. They talk some more and then Eddie hangs up the phone, just as Buck walks up behind him, the rest of the people from the seminar leaving, too.</p>
<p>“Sorry, Buck.” He says, because he missed it, and there’s no point in pointing out the obvious.</p>
<p>Buck only smiles and pats his arm with his hand, and asks, “Breakfast?”</p>
<p> Eddie smiles, all traces of those treacherous tears gone. “Eggs?”</p>
<p>Buck winks. “The brown ones.”</p>
<p>…</p>
<p> Breakfast is a big meal for them both, not just them, but also with Christopher. On the nights that they both stay over at Buck’s, in the morning more often than not Eddie will wake to the best breakfast smells anyone could ask for. There’s no meat though, something Buck still does not eat, but there are eggs. Cooked the way they all like them each, and big fluffy pancakes that are Christopher’s favourite. Syrup big and thick with butter and coffee to top it all off. Hot chocolate for Christopher. It’s sometimes not the most healthiest of meals when Christopher asks for chocolate chips in everything, but it is delicious, and some time that they get to spend together, happy and warm.</p>
<p> Sometimes breakfast is at night though, under the stars with eggs crisped in the aftertaste of fire. Coffee nearby and some fruit if Eddie’s lucky, if they both are. The stars shining brightly down on them both, or all three of them, depending on the night. Today it’s the morning. It’s just after seven, bright and early, and the sun is just coming in as they find a booth at a diner on the edge of town. Eddie likes his quiet, and so does Buck after too much noise so instead of following the crowd to the restaurant by the hotel, they jumped in the car and found their own. Diner’s always do have the best breakfasts anyways.</p>
<p>“Hi there, huns, coffee?” The waitress asks, her nametag reading, ‘<strong><em>Anne</em></strong>.’</p>
<p>“Please.” Eddie says as he upturns his cup, Buck doing the same.</p>
<p>“Do you need a moment to order?” She asks as she pours a hearty cup for them both.</p>
<p> Eddie looks to Buck who shakes his head, giving Eddie the signal for the usual. “He’ll have three fried eggs, two pieces of white toast with butter, and some fruit. I’ll have the same but with whole-wheat bread and eggs sunny side up.”</p>
<p> She nods and asks, “No meat?”</p>
<p> Eddie catches the guilty look from Buck but shakes his head up at her. “No, thanks.” She smiles and disappears with one last word of, “Coming right up.”</p>
<p> Buck leans forward, a sorry etch to his face that Eddie won’t let him keep. “Don’t, Buck, its fine. I’ve got enough protein in these eggs.”</p>
<p> Buck still looks incredibly sorry so Eddie reiterates with, “Fine, make it up to me by eating your fruit. All of it.”</p>
<p> Buck pouts at this but sits back down, arms crossed over his chest, a look that makes Eddie smirk a little, laughter bubbling up. He tries to hold it down as he asks, “So, how was bigfoot?”</p>
<p>“How was Christopher?”</p>
<p>“Good.”</p>
<p>“Good.”</p>
<p>“So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” Eddie sips his coffee and squints his eyes out to the rising sun. It’s quite beautiful. He looks back to Buck though who has his shades slipped on, still pouting with arms crossed, but Eddie knows him. He knows. “Look, I know you’re dying to tell me all about it, so why don’t I put these blinds down and you can take your little book out and tell me all about the newspaper you’re going to write now on The Bigfoot.”</p>
<p> Eddie reaches out and does as he says he will, as soon as the sun’s gone Buck sits up, shades off and eyes animated as he takes out the black book. “Okay, so here’s the thing about Bigfoot, we always assumed that there must be different species living all around the world, right? That maybe…”</p>
<p> Eddie might not be a complete believer in this stuff, completely sold, but Buck is, so he listens. It’s important to Buck, so he listens, and also maybe it’s a little interesting. But just a little. Thankfully the food comes quick though, and is gone just as fast as it came. Buck talking around it all, even the fruit, thankfully. Maddie says he hasn’t been eating enough lately.</p>
<p>“…That’s why we have to go to Canada.”</p>
<p> Eddie blinks. “Wait what?”</p>
<p> But Buck is smiling all shyly and secretive again as he says, “Bathroom,” And successfully disappears, getting out of the conversation just like that.</p>
<p> Eddie sips his coffee and says almost to himself, “’Canada?’”</p>
<p>…</p>
<p> Before they leave the restaurant completely, Eddie grabs a couple of muffins off the counter, big and fluffy ones, the kind that’s a whole meal in itself. One blueberry and one carrot. He pays for them and the meals with a ten and a twenty and tells her to keep the change. Anne smiles and Eddie smiles back, joining Buck who’s already in the car fiddling with the radio knob looking for something to listen to. His sunglasses on tightly, a red hood over his long hair.</p>
<p>“Ready to go?” Eddie asks as he puts the muffins in the back and buckles up.</p>
<p> Buck doesn’t look at him, but he does nod as he lands on a station filled with old saxophones. Seemingly satisfied by it, he leaves it on playing low and reaches for his black book and the motel’s pen. He starts scribbling down ideas and Eddie finds a fond smile entering his lips as he shakes his head and hits the gas. “Where to next?”</p>
<p>“Fifty miles.” Buck says, and Eddie takes it all in stride. He’s aware that they’re heading closer and closer to Nevada, a place filled with the infamous Area 51 cooks and crazies. ‘Eccentrics’ as Eddie would put it if anyone asked, because that’s his Buck, isn’t it?</p>
<p>“Area 51 then, huh?” Eddie says and he can’t say really that he’s surprised by it.</p>
<p> He sees Buck smile ever so slightly as he replies back, “Groom Lake.”</p>
<p>Eddie’s heard this before, but it’s been awhile, so he asks, “Groom Lake?”</p>
<p>“It all started with Operation Paperclip.” Buck’s head is up and even though his eyes are hidden by his big sunglasses, Eddie knows that they’re wide awake and animated. “In World War II they brought over Nazi war criminals into the U.S.A in a top secret project called Operation Paperclip. They were given new names and new identities. These were the top engineers, doctors, and scientists. Edmundo, they’re the ones that helped us get to the moon.”</p>
<p> It sounds crazy, but Eddie knows that if he asked, Buck could show him some kind of proof. That’s the thing about Buck, he may be a little out there, a little spaced out, but he isn’t stupid, or crazy. No matter what anyone else will say. In fact he’s pretty smart, and he always backs up what he says with research and proof, of some kind or another. But then again, he also tells him to do his own research. Buck tells everyone that at the end of his newspapers.</p>
<p> Still, they wouldn’t be Eddie and Buck if Eddie didn’t say back, “Or did they?”</p>
<p> Buck smiles wide and big, his hand coming up to slide the sunglasses down a little in order for Eddie to see him wink. “Now you’re asking the right questions, Edmundo.”</p>
<p>“So tell me about the scientists, how’d they become involved with Groom Lake?”</p>
<p> Buck talks about it all, from the start to the beginning, to the middle, where it all ends up is anyone’s guess, but Eddie can see the theories racing through Buck’s mind. They drive and drive until it’s well past fifty miles, to a new motel, one Eddie’s grateful for because Buck’s talking is slowing down, and so is his own ability to even drive. They’re both tired, exhausted even, and since they’re mostly going to be driving at night, they should sleep.</p>
<p> Eddie gets a two bed motel room much like the last one, only no television this time and no desk either. There is a coffee machine and two chairs, a coffee machine is nonnegotiable for them. Eddie takes a quick shower after Buck and soon he’s under smooth sheets, the shades pulled tightly closed. Buck is sitting with his back against the wall, little black notebook in front of him and pen going wildly across paper. </p>
<p> Before Eddie turns off his own lamp, he’s sure to say to Buck, “Maybe sure you get some sleep, Buck.”</p>
<p> Buck doesn’t look up from his ramblings on paper, but he does nod, a clear sign to Eddie that he heard him. “Okay.” Eddie tells him before he does switch his light off and bury into the blankets, eyes shutting automatically in exhaustion. It has to be just after one in the afternoon, but it feels like he hasn’t slept in forever. He’s out before he knows what hits him.</p>
<p> It shouldn’t surprise him really when it’s barely been a couple of hours when he wakes to the smell of sand and sea. The ringing in his head is so loud it’s like a siren. Eddie’s on his feet in an instant, the room darker than ever before except for the small light of a nightlight. An old one of Christopher’s, filled with the form of a rocket ship.</p>
<p> The toilet flushes and Eddie’s eyes drift to the bathroom as his hands loosen their hold ever so slightly in his hair. A soft tune comes from under the bathroom door, one filled with sandy beaches and Californian Dreams, a favourite of Buck’s. He knows it’s Buck, can feel him, and finally see him when the door opens and his eyes land on Eddie, his whole body stilling, the song dying in his throat.</p>
<p> Eddie feels hot and cold, and his breathing is irregular, he knows that it is, but at the sight of Buck he feels relief, so strong it outpours. He wasn’t dreaming about this life. He’s not in some commi’s hole, literally and metaphorically, he didn’t get trapped or left behind. He got out and Shannon died, and he moved Christopher to a small town near Los Angeles. One filled with the wisdom of a man that sees more than stars in their vast universe, world. A man who loves and sees, and bends through it all in his own way.</p>
<p> His best friend. Who he loves.</p>
<p>“I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.” Buck’s words are sincere, in the light of the motel’s bright bathroom shining a light on them both, Eddie can see the sincerity in his eyes. Flat and glazed, and a little lost himself, but here, with him. Like he says. Like he promises. As he always has. It makes something unfurl in his chest at the realization, that Buck is still here and that he loves him, too, and that he’s okay.</p>
<p> Eddie tries to speak. To say something. A croaking crack, ‘<em>mi sol</em>,’ but all that comes out is the gasps of some kind of sob, and then Buck is there, hands gentle on him. Not firm or trapped, not even bringing him too close. Knowing himself more than he does. “Come on, deputy, let’s see what’s cooking.”</p>
<p> He guides Eddie into the darkness of outside, onto the small cement porch with plastic white chairs that are uncomfortable, but real. He sits Eddie down and disappears only for a second with a blanket, wrapping it around Eddie. Buck stands back and then sits down beside him, not on any chair, but straight on the ground, eyes moving past the small venda to the sky filled with stars. They’re less bright and clear, more clouds here for right now, but they’re there. They’re real. They both are.</p>
<p> Eddie still hears a ringing but he begins to understand, more than he ever has before. And when Buck gently reaches for his hand, shy with cheeks dusted red as though they’re fifteen at their first dance, asking a girl to hold in the way of a new kind of music, Buck takes Eddie’s hand. Eddie feels their fingers move softly against the other until their fingers are interlocked and the cool breeze of oncoming desert nights blows by.</p>
<p> They sit for a long time until Eddie gets cold and Buck gets thirsty. He can’t bring the coffee machine outside, but he makes a valiant effort of having it as close as possible. Something in Buck’s eyes tells Eddie that it’s not about the coffee or missing home, needing things to be the way he wants, instead it speaks to needing to be close. To caring, and love, and friendship. All nice things. Buck even gets the too big muffins out of the car and makes sure Eddie eats. As though they’ve switched roles in their relationship, caretaking, or whatever, but it doesn’t feel weird. Or wrong. Or anything, it just feels okay, under these stars, and maybe taking care of each other is how it’s supposed to be. Even if Eddie would rather be the one taking care of Buck, but it’s hard when he hears the ringing and smells the gunpowder.</p>
<p> Eddie slips his eyes shut and squeezes Buck’s hand.</p>
<p>“What did that guy mean by the ‘little furry people,’ Buck?”</p>
<p> He feels and hears Buck’s hesitance, a pause before Eddie, even with eyes closed can feel and see his wide and soft smile. The best kind. The best one he’s got. If he opens his eyes now, Eddie knows that Buck’s will be on his and on the sky. And Eddie’s has always only been on Buck’s, but maybe he can try to have his on the sky, too. Maybe just a little.</p>
<p>“Well, Edmundo, in the native tribes of these here lands, there are stories of the fury ones. It sounds funny to say it like that, but the Cree, Ojibwe, Navajo, more still it’s the name roughly translated from their tongue. That they gave to the fury ones. Their stories are never altered, it’s a tradition, and these furry people, well they’re everywhere. Up in Canada, or Kanada they have the word, ‘little’ to it. But most people call them Bigfoot…”</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>“<em>All the leaves are brown! And the sky is grey!”</em></p>
<p>“I’ve been for a walk!”</p>
<p>“On a winter’s day…!”</p>
<p>“I would be safe and warm if I was in LA!”</p>
<p> The music flows through them both, Eddie looks to Buck and Buck looks back, big sunglasses on and hair blowing in the wind, windows half open on open road. They drive across sand and cacti, all the way to Nevada. Where the sun shines bright during the day and lights dance in the sky at night. Mysteries and secrets moving through like the wind. They both sing along to this old familiar tune, better because of the time they spent together last night. Tired and heavy in the bones, but light in the heart and optimistic in their eyes.</p>
<p> Eddie reaches over and turns up the volume, Buck’s hand meeting his in a spark of electricity. Buck smiles shyly to him and Eddie just grins back. The cigarettes in his pocket dig in, but he doesn’t touch them. Doesn’t light them up like he was shaking to do last night, as the ringing circulated through shaky legs and darkened skies. They’re good. He’s good.</p>
<p>“I’m California dreaming!” Eddie sings at the top of his lungs and lets out a breath of exhilaration that only comes from sleep exhaustion and wakefulness all at once. It’s freedom and it’s vice, and it’s the wind in their hair, his stubble reappearing as he has decided to take Buck’s lead and not shave or trim. Maybe he’ll even stop wearing shoes. Maybe he’s letting himself go to let himself in.</p>
<p> And maybe that’s okay.</p>
<p>“California Dreaming!” Buck half yells and sings with him, and the sun continues to shine, going down more and more as they get closer and closer. The lizards humming in their buzz.</p>
<p>“I love you, Buck.” And he says it because he can. Because he’s alive, and somewhere in that unexpected tears come. They come just as a hand interlocks with his own. Squeezes once, then let’s go as Buck lets half his head hang out the car. Hair billowing dangerously. Eddie wants to chastise, to get him to come back in, but there’s another part of him now. A new growing and developing part that marvels, and wants to do the same.</p>
<p> So he just smiles, wider for it, and reaches for his own sunglasses, the one’s Buck bought at a tourist shop on their way out of town. Out of the California state, and into a new one. Sand and sun, and secret air force bases. Maybe even real life ET’s.</p>
<p> Should be fun.</p>
<p>Right?</p>
<p>“WELL I GOT DOWN ON MY KNEES AND I PRAY!”</p>
<p>...</p>
<p> When they make it to where they’re going, Eddie can’t help but let out a smirk and a bubble of small laughter. He pulls into the driveway of the diner and lets out an even bigger one as the sign filled with a typical ET UFO moves slightly in the Nevada desert winds. The words on top say the ‘<strong><em>Galaxy Highway</em></strong>’, a smaller sign underneath saying that their, ‘pie is out of this world.’ It’s all very cheesy and touristy, but Buck is smiling wider as he takes in the frame of the place, and Eddie has to remind himself that Buck’s probably been here before. That he travelled a lot before they met. In his RV, across state lines to other places, other UFO hotspots as they’re called. He might even know some of the people in here.</p>
<p>“Hungry?” Eddie asks as he pulls into a parking spot. The sun is setting and Buck has taken off his sunglasses, his sweater big and all encompassing, and yet he pulls it closer as he looks nervously to Eddie with a nod. It leaves Eddie slightly concerned as he leans over, a hand on Buck’s arm. “Are you okay, Buck?”</p>
<p> Buck smiles and shrugs. “’sbeen a while.”</p>
<p>“We don’t have to go in, or we can wait if you want.”</p>
<p> Buck smiles a little more, a little less shyly as Eddie’s stomach grumbles, as Buck’s joins him. “They do have the best pie.”</p>
<p> Eddie laughs and they both get out to head inside, the sky turning a pinkish orange colour, almost purple in some places. One or two overly bright starts shining already. The moon, a crescent off to the side somewhere. Brighter in the fading sun. It’s quite beautiful out here, a quiet that only comes from the desert, but it’s dang cold, and Eddie finds himself reaching into the backseat to pull out his own jacket, slipping it on as they head into the diner that’s anything but quiet.</p>
<p> The bells above jingle and the laughter ceases only slightly as eyes turn to them. It seems they’ve stepped into a familiar scene. There are clearly tourists, but other people, too. Regulars it seems and maybe even some people from the small town a few miles that way, away from this diner and the infamous Area 51, or as Buck likes to informally call it, Groom Lake. A waitress in high stop heals and curly hair similar to Buck’s colour follows them to their spot at a booth filled with spaceships painted on the window.</p>
<p>“Buck, it’s been a while, darling, how are you?” She asks through the thick fog of chatter and utensils hitting plates. She’s got her notepad and pen out but something tells Eddie that she doesn’t really need it. The kind of waitress who’s worked long enough to know orders my heart. She must have been working here a few years back when presumably Buck drove through. It occurs to Eddie then how little he does know about Buck’s exploits, about his life before. It bothers him a little, but at the same time, what does Buck really know of him? Before?</p>
<p>“Shirley.” Buck smiles all soft and gooey, but his eyes are on the menu in front of him and his fingers tighten around it. Eddie can tell he’s nervous, maybe even a little uncomfortable with all the noise and people.</p>
<p>“You seem different, darling. You even came into the diner, usually I have to meet you outside.” She eyes him carefully, slipping her gaze to Eddie now and again. “Are you okay in here? We have a few patio chairs I can set up outside for you and your friend.”</p>
<p> She’s protective, and kind, and affectionate to Buck. Caring and protective, Buck usually brings that out in people. Either that or some other violent tendencies. Eddie’s mind flashes to a few dark events he’s been privy too, but he tries not think of that now. Instead his concern is on Buck, a warmth flooding in through for this woman. He’s more grateful to her than she knows, because Buck was out on his own before. Anyone looking out for him is okay in Eddie’s book, although the term, ‘friend,’ it’s accurate, don’t get him wrong. But they’re more than that aren’t they? Family would fit better.</p>
<p> Buck shakes his head to her questioning and she smiles. “Don’t worry, these folks will be out of here soon, most of them are finishing up our rocket shakes and pies. I have a few tidbits to show you, afterward.” She whispers the last part, leaning in a little as though it were a secret, and maybe it is. Maybe there’s things here that they don’t show the tourists. She leans back though and with a winning smile asks, “Your usual?”</p>
<p> She must still remember. Buck nods to it and smiles slightly, pushing his menu over as Shirley looks to himself. “And you darling?”</p>
<p>“Eddie.” He tells her, because it feels like it’s important.</p>
<p>“Eddie, then. I’m Shirley.” She reaches out and Eddie shakes her hand.</p>
<p>“I’ll have whatever Buck’s having.” He didn’t really have time to look at the menu, and she raises her eyebrow at that.</p>
<p>“Are you sure?”</p>
<p>“Yes.” He repeats, although now he’s a little nervous as she eyes him. Himself handing the menu over.</p>
<p>“Coming right up.” And then she’s gone, back only a moment later to pour them some coffee and bring a glass of water, eyes on Buck as she tells him, “One glass of water per cup of coffee.” It’s a stern but firm way she says it, yet kind, and Buck preens a little. Cheeks red as though he might not have been following that advice as of late. Eddie can testify to that, but he’s not going to rat out his best friend now is he?</p>
<p>“I take it you’ve been here before.” Eddie says as he sips his coffee, knowing no doubt that they’ll be here for a while and that he’ll have to drive them somewhere after this, although where to is anyone’s guess. Buck hasn’t been exactly forthcoming with the details, even now, and Eddie loves it as much as it makes him nervous. But he trusts Buck, so he’s patient, never pushing. He’s learning to just, ‘go with it.’ “Been here a lot?”</p>
<p> People start milling out now, and every time the bells jingle and another person leaves, some tension leaves Buck’s body, too. It makes Eddie less nervous himself, less on guard and concerned for Buck. “Yes, Edmundo.” He nods, a little stiffly and formally as someone walks by, almost too close it seems.</p>
<p>“Hey…” Eddie tilts his head and makes sure that Buck’s eyes flicker to his own before he asks, “Are you okay? We don’t have to stay here.”</p>
<p> Buck nods quickly, still a little shaky as he reaches for his coffee. He smiles, or tries to and says, “Best coffee,” as he holds the mug up slightly.</p>
<p> Eddie still doesn’t like the way Buck is looking, so he very discretely looks around at the remaining patrons, none of them paying them any attention. He looks around one last time to be sure before he reaches under booth and taps Buck’s leg with his foot. Buck stills a little before his eyes meet Eddie’s, and then very slowly he reaches his own hand out underneath and tentatively touches Eddie’s. A light touch, brush of fingers before Buck’s hand is in his own, and the shakiness and nerves decreases just a little, just enough until almost everyone in the diner is gone and Buck is okay again. Smiling without fear.</p>
<p>“Your food, boys.” Shirley sets the tray on the counter and puts a plate of eggs, fried in front of the both of them with some toast. A piece of ‘out of this world pie’ and a milkshake that looks like it’s filled with Smarties. Wow, so that’s why she asked if Eddie was sure.</p>
<p>“Um, one second.” Eddie stops her before she goes.</p>
<p> She smiles, a little humourless and asks, “Yes?”</p>
<p>“We’ll take a bowl of fruit, too, please.”</p>
<p>“There’s fruit in the pie, Edmundo.” Buck says quickly, a slight glare in his eyes that’s only a little petulant. They’ve let go of each other’s hands now, did so as soon as Shirley came over, at least Eddie did, and now they’re sitting back looking to the other.</p>
<p>“Doesn’t count Buck.” Eddie tells him with a smile of his own humour. He knows that he’s going to win this one, and he does when Buck huffs and crosses his arms.</p>
<p>“How about a bowl of broccoli instead?” Shirley offers, her own teasing smile as she looks between them both. Buck looks like he’s going to say something in outrage, but Eddie is quick to turn all of his attention on Shirley and say, “That would be great, Shirley.”</p>
<p> She smiles and disappears, Buck still pouting as she does so.</p>
<p>“Cheer up, Buck. I know you secretly love broccoli, and you need to eat more healthy. We can’t just eat breakfast all of the time.”</p>
<p> Buck stabs his eggs and says, “Yes, deputy, sir- <em>dad.</em>”</p>
<p> Eddie can’t help but laugh a little. The more they’re out here, the more it seems like Buck is coming back to himself. Different, always different, because everyone changes, but a little more in tune with the rest of the world, and maybe that’s a good thing. It is. <em>It is.</em></p>
<p> But then a look of guilt crosses his features and he looks up almost like he’s about to cry before he really does, a tear slipping by. “I forgot you like sunny side up.”</p>
<p> Eddie’s heart just about breaks as he reaches out and wipes a tear away, forgetting the rest of the world himself. Forgetting Shirley or the two remaining patrons, a hand warm on Buck’s cheek as he says sternly, “It’s okay, Buck. I like fried too sometimes. It’s nice to have a change. Like this road trip, don’t you think?”</p>
<p> He smiles and Buck matches it with his own before he leans into his hand, his touch, and then pulls away. Sitting down and eating his eggs aggressively as Eddie takes his own hand away, coming back to himself in a little bit of shock as he realized what he did. He looks to his hand and stares longer than necessary before he’s eating his own eggs, too. The broccoli coming soon after. Eddie looks around almost desperately, but it looks like no one saw their little display. Eddie sighs in relief.</p>
<p>“Try the shake, Edmundo.”</p>
<p> He tries the shake.</p>
<p> And it’s actually pretty good. The time they’re onto the shakes and pie, the rest of the customers having left and Shirley comes over with a smile on her face. In her hands are obvious photographs, big pictures of lights from what Eddie can see from the first still. He won’t deny that he’s a little intrigued, not as much as Buck who almost tips his drink over as he tries to get a good gander and look at them. Eddie smiles at his enthusiasm, a warm feeling in his chest as Buck’s tears are wiped away now and only smiles remain.</p>
<p>“These are the big hitters since you’ve been gone.” Shirley tells Buck and himself seriously as she pulls the chair closer. Buck moves their drinks and pie dishes away as Shirley lays the photos down carefully. There are four facing them almost immediately, the most important Eddie would have to say, if the way she touches him them is anything to go by. Careful and precise, eyes lighted up in that similar spark of Buck’s, only a little different. Buck’s will always shine brighter, Eddie’s sure.</p>
<p>“This one was back in July of last year, five in the morning. We heard a loud whooshing and the time we got out with the camera, it was just hovering.” Shirley explains, her painted purple nail tapping on the photograph stuck in some clear protective plastic. Eddie looks at it with some curiosity, but it’s blurry. A classic disc shape above some trees, but too close, almost as though something was held in front of the camera. Buck looks fascinated though, Eddie’s eyes flickering to his for a moment. Nothing is more interesting to him than Buck, not even flying saucers. Even after all these years, that’s never changed.</p>
<p> The next photo she taps to is the one that really catches Eddie’s eye. It’s nothing particular, it’s a triangle shaped with three lights on it, the kind Buck’s shown him before. He went on about classification and how there are subsets of these UFO’s, but Eddie was thinking about dinner and how tired he was at the time. He still heard him, but, for the life of him he can’t name this one. Only that it speaks to him in a way that the other’s don’t. Even though the third is a more clear disc, with mechanics to it. Even though the fourth shows unmistakable inconceivable burn marks that just aren’t possible. His eyes train on that triangle. As though it were calling to him, <em>Eddie- Eddie- Eddie…</em></p>
<p>“So? What do you reckon, Buck? Any that you want to keep?” Shirley asks as Buck rummages through the others, the triangle one staying right there in front of them all.</p>
<p> He feels Buck’s gaze on himself but he can’t look away not yet. Not until Buck puts a finger on it and taps. “Gift wrapped.” He says and Shirley smiles, something Eddie catches as he finally looks up, a little confused as he looks from his best friend to this woman.</p>
<p>“What’s that?” He feels his eyebrows furrow as he looks to Buck who smiles all goofy like. Eddie matches it a little, mirroring him without thought.</p>
<p>“That will be four hundred then, mister.” Shirley holds out her hand and Eddie stills immediately not like this as he throws his hands up.</p>
<p>“Wait, what? Four hundred? It’s just a photograph.”</p>
<p>“It’s not just a photograph, darling, and if it were anyone else it would be two thousand. Trust me.” She winks as she stands while gathering the other photographs. “I’m giving your friend here a mighty fine deal.”</p>
<p> Before Eddie can say anything more, Buck pulls out a wad of cash seemingly from nowhere he smiles and licks his fingers, counting out the bills. Eddie feels his eyes bug out of his head as Shirley takes the money slips the other photographs under arm in order to reach for their mostly empty pie plates. She scurries off and Eddie looks to Buck in something like outrage, more confusion than anything else. “Four hundred dollars for a photograph, Buck?”</p>
<p> Buck shrugs, cheeks dusted red with sheepish intent as he sips at his milkshake. His fingers pushing the photo closer to himself, across the table more. “Happy birthday, Edmundo.”</p>
<p>“My birthday is in November, Buck.” He deadpans, but Buck doesn’t take it back or say anything to apologize not that he needs to. Instead he smiles a little more and drinks his shake. Eddie feels like he should be arguing with Buck about this, but they’ve already had this argument before. About money, about how rich Buck is because of the lawsuit and how much Eddie himself is, well… <em>Not.</em> How a certain amount of gifts to their son is too much and there’s a limit. How Eddie himself doesn’t like to take anything from Buck. He’d made his way in the world, he’s a man with a gun over there and now here. He can look after himself. Even birthday and Christmas gifts are touchy for him, but this photograph…</p>
<p> Eddie picks it up and observes it more clearly, more closely as he takes a sip of his own shake, and he can’t really argue with how marvelous it is. How enchanting, how curious it makes him. How much of an enigma it presents within himself. How grateful he is for Buck for seeing something he can’t quite grasp yet within himself. For this road trip even. For all of it. So he puts the photo down and says softly and surely as Buck’s eyes lock with his, “Thanks, Buck.”</p>
<p> Buck’s responding gentle smile says it all really, ‘<em>no thanks needed.</em>’</p>
<p>They look after each other, it’s just what they do.</p>
<p>“Here you go, boys.” Shirley returns with a large flask with something hot, a water jug, and a small bag with what looks like sandwiches. Eddie stares, his eyebrows raised as he sips the last of his milkshake.</p>
<p>“For us?” He asks.</p>
<p> She smiles, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small sheet of paper. “You’ve got lot G as per usual, Buck you remember the way?”</p>
<p> Buck nods and salutes. “Roger.”</p>
<p> Eddie’s not sure what exactly is going on but he’s slowly gathering a picture of it all. He suspected camping of some form some time, he just didn’t realize it would be in the desert, close to a military base. In the desert. Where the temperature drops like a dead fly. In the desert. But he trusts Buck so he doesn’t question it as much as he really would like to right now.</p>
<p>“I made a couple sandwiches for you both, you’ll get hungry later. Fresh coffee, I assume you have some mugs in the car.”</p>
<p> Eddie feels his cheeks tinge in red as he remembers the stolen motel mugs, and well isn’t that something. They’re still in there, in the backseat coasters. Hardly dirty really, but very handy it seems. Shirley smiles like she can read his mind and says, “That’s what I thought. Water, too. I know how Buck is.” She eyes Buck with a slight disapproving look, but it’s all teasing as Buck shrugs as though he can’t help it.</p>
<p> Eddie just feels warm. “Thank you.” He tells her as they both stand and start gathering the supplies she’s brought.</p>
<p>“It’s no trouble, really.” She smiles to Buck who grabs the water and sandwiches and then proceeds to make grabby motions for the keys. Eddie hands them over with ease. “I’ll be right out, Buck. Have to hit the Head.”</p>
<p> Buck rolls his eyes as though he were expecting it, as though he knew it was coming, and who knows? Maybe he did. He’s gone in a flash though, probably has the radio to Art Bell’s ‘<em>Midnight in the Desert</em>,’ although Eddie can’t blame him, that show is interesting. Grabs his attention like no other. Makes him think. Like Buck continues to do so. Has.</p>
<p>“Um…” Shirley stops him, a hand on his arm and smile tight, almost watery, blue eyes on his. “I just wanted to say, thank you. For being there for… Well, he seems better.” She looks out to the car where Buck nods his head to some sort of obviously fun tune. Eddie matches her line of sight and smiles, ducking his head just a little. He smiles a lot when Buck’s around. He’s like the sun, his sun. “I’m glad he has you.” She finishes as she looks back to him, gratitude in her eyes as she nods. “I’ve always been worried about him, being out on his own.”</p>
<p>“He’s not.” Eddie says quickly, needing to say it. To get it out. To make it real and true, and have her understand. Have himself understand, too. “He’s not on his own, and he never has to be, again. He’s got me… He’s got me.” <em>He’s got all of us, but he has me.</em></p>
<p> She smiles. “I’m glad.”</p>
<p> When he’s done in the bathroom, he picks up the coffee and heads out, meeting Buck in the car with a smile as he remembers the darker days. Tears on top of RV’s. Lost eyes and painful touch. Buck’s smiling back at him now, very much here. Eyes lost on something more than the sky. And without even thinking about it Eddie cups his cheek and brings him close, almost as though he were going to kiss him, but he doesn’t. He rests his forehead against Buck’s, breathing him in and trying to ignore the soft look of surprise in Buck’s eyes that quickly drifts away as he leans into the touch. Eddie’s own eyes drift shut for only a moment before he’s opening them again and saying, “You’ve got me, Buck.”</p>
<p> And Buck’s answering smile and reply, is predictable really, but kind and loving all the same. “You’ve got me, Edmundo. You’ve got me, too.”</p>
<p> Eddie laughs a little breathless and pulls away, putting the car in drive and back away, following after Buck’s instructions as he reads them from his little black book. Their fingers touching briefly before their hands slip together, fingers tangled and warm. A burning up of love, so strong and warm, it leaves a trail of almost tears nestled beneath his eyes.</p>
<p>“So, Buck, you think we’ll see any UFO’s tonight?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know, Edmundo, you going to quit with the hair gel tonight? I think you scare them away with that stuff.”</p>
<p> Eddie laughs and Buck laughs, and it’s very, very real. He squeeze Buck’s hand in his and they drive up a desert mountain. Hot coffee and water swishing in the back, a newly acquired photograph tucked protectively under a jacket sat between them both. Almost perfect.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p> The sandwiches are good, a few hours later when they’ve set up their tent and have a nice small fire going. When the sun is fully gone and the car is long since cold, they bite into them. No meat the way Buck likes, but cheese and lettuce, tomato, and mayo. Eggs thickly done. Eddie finds that he eats most of it in one go. It has been a few hours since their last meal, both him and Buck becoming enamoured by the stars above them, Buck pointing out each constellation. So very clear out here in the desert, his telescope set up neatly. They haven’t used it much back in Nicon, or out here yet, but Eddie finds that he quite likes it as much as it’s a nuisance. It’s pretty astounding.</p>
<p>“Coffee, Edmundo?” Buck questions as he balances his own sandwich with thermos and their motel mugs. He’s set out a small crate that he had in the back of the car and has a nice little spread for them going. It doesn’t fail to take his notice that Shirley also included some fruit in the mixture. Something green, maybe a honeydew, all chopped up for the both of them.</p>
<p>“Yeah, thanks, Buck.” He doesn’t necessarily need more coffee but they’re both going to be up for a while. By Buck’s estimations, until about five or six. Sleeping most of the day away, something about the sun being brighter here, which makes sense. Besides, Eddie’s already vowed to try and do most of the driving at night, knowing how much Buck still has trouble with the sun.</p>
<p> He pours him a good hearty cup and passes it over as he adds the cream and sugar to his own. “Any minute now.” Buck mutters, almost too himself as his eyes dance gleefully from dying star to dying star.</p>
<p> Eddie matches his gaze as a spark is ignited into his chest. He’s not exactly sure what Buck means with that, other than that he’s heard it before. Right before a deer came into their path almost a year ago, when he was driving Buck back home from his sister’s place. They almost crashed and all Buck could do was laugh. Eddie really thought he either hit his head or lost his mind a little, but it became apparent that neither was the case when the deer’s babies came running out after, the sight something borderline miraculous in its execution. Buck telling him that he knew nothing would go wrong, and it didn’t.</p>
<p> Eddie didn’t even question him on not telling him about what was going to happen, the things that Buck somehow knows without needing to be told are strange, but Eddie doesn’t see it that way. Not really, not completely. And his anger was only momentarily, he could never stay mad at Buck for long. Although he wouldn’t be him if he didn’t mutter out a, “give a guy a warning next time.” Buck laughing, almost giggling as he apologized in his own way. Buck just knows things, and Eddie trusts him enough to tell him when he needs to know what those things are. It’s how he got here on a mountain in a desert waiting for a top secret army base to have their light show, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.</p>
<p>“What exactly are we waiting for this time, Buck? More deer?” He’s teasing a little as he scoffs down the last of his sandwich and half the coffee, his hand reaching to bring the water out, too. Just drinking coffee and nothing else, is not the healthiest. He’s been trying to get Buck to be more healthy, but road trips are different. It’s almost like they exist in their own little realities. The laws of nature being somewhat different out here.</p>
<p> Buck looks back to him and grins before his eyes shoot to the skies up ahead, Eddie matching his line of sight in stunned silence. Buck wasn’t kidding. It’s not deer, but there are lights, or something more… <em>Solid. </em>They’re orbs of light, but they’re attached to something else, and they dance in the open air, hovering above it all. It’s a fascinating endeavour to be a part of, to witness. It leaves Eddie’s breath knocked out of him as he stares, unable to really look away. They remind him of that night before all of this, all those years ago when it was just them and an RV, and their group, their family. How intrigued he was then, how <em>much love</em>. This is different but it’s so much the same, and astounding that he can’t breathe for a moment. Lost in this one.</p>
<p> Eddie watches Buck and fully expects him to wave at them, as though they were old friends, but he never does instead his back becomes rigid and straight. His eyes locked on, turning darker as the show goes on. It doesn’t last more than a few minutes before the lights fade out, almost dimming into nonexistence. The objects, the lack of sound, it’s all gone in a flash, an instant that brings his breath back just as quickly as it was stolen. He feels a pressure on his chest he never knew was there, or began to be, fade. Be lifted.</p>
<p> Eddie almost stumbles back, but catches himself as Buck reaches out for him. His eyes are still on the skies, body positioned down below, but his hand is on Eddie’s shirt, tightly gripped and sturdy. Eddie doesn’t fall. He stands a little straighter and swallows down the swell of panic and excitement. “W- What was that?” He tries for rational, but he’s still unsteady on his legs, wobbly in the intense adrenaline that has pumped through him, the sweat building in his hair. The things he never noticed until they start to leave. “Buck?”</p>
<p> Buck puts a finger to his mouth, an act of silence, and Eddie obeys. His stomach swoops from the recent food, threatening to come back up, but he’s made of stronger stuff so it never does. He’s left shakily sitting down by Buck who still stands, half crouched almost, staring. His hand still clutched in his shirt. Eddie leaves it there, not touching it with his own knowing from past experience how that might not be the best move here. How it might startle, harm, and hurt more than anything else. Scaring an already spooked horse.</p>
<p> He watches Buck’s features all the same, dead locked and serious on the darkened sky before them. Still like a statue for far too long, until finally, finally he lets out a breath and almost deflates back on the ground. His butt hitting their shared blanket, shoulders sagging as he reaches for his cup of coffee, hands shaking. Eddie feels a strike of fear as he reaches for the cup for him, putting into his hands gently, Buck pushing it past his lips. His hand lets go of Eddie’s shirt, and Eddie feels the loss immediately.</p>
<p>“Buck?”</p>
<p> Nothing. Eyes big and wide, and lost.</p>
<p>“<em>Mi sol?</em>” He tries in Spanish, the language tasting foreign on his tongue and lips, leaving his throat dry as he hasn’t used it since his aunt grew sick. Since his parents came and tornadoes their way through their lives for a brief speck of time. Moments that he’ll never really get back, or understand.</p>
<p> Buck startles and looks over, eyes wide until they find Eddie’s own. Their breathes just barely touching with how close they are, still some distance between them. “Edmundo.” He says softly and smiles much the same. He puts his coffee up and pulls Eddie down with him onto the blanket laid out on the desert floor. Eddie allows for Buck’s head to land softly on his, almost to his chest. He pulls the blanket up around them both and prays for Buck to stop shaking.</p>
<p>“That was from out of this world.” Buck says tiredly, almost dreamily.</p>
<p> Eddie smiles, his touch of concern for Buck still there, but quieter than before. Less of a screaming and more of an exhausted fondness than anything else now. He lets his fingers trace along Buck’s jaw for only a moment before bringing his hand back down to himself and looking up to the sky with him. “It was.” He admits in the coolness of the desert.</p>
<p> Keyed up and excited from the events they’ve just witnessed, the mystery of it all even though they both have their own different rationalizations for it, neither of them sleep just yet. Eddie himself is thinking of darkened nights in Vietnamese forests, lights above from choppers with either reinforcements or transport for the dead and wounded. The soft and slow breathing of Buck’s reminds him that this isn’t what just happened, but he can still see it as clear as day, the only difference is no sound. The movements, so fluid and unnatural with their modern tank equipment. The lights, moving in and out of space not possible.</p>
<p> He’s sure if he asked Buck, he’d say little green men, or grey, but Eddie’s not so convinced. They’re near Area 51, enough said really. It’s an air force base, top secret in its evolutionary position of furthering aerial development, and that’s all that this was. But it does beg the question of how further their technology really is. Eddie wonders of the secrets, but he’s a patriot at heart, so are his parents and their parents before them. Just because his grandfather was an immigrant doesn’t mean that they have ever been anything less than American. Eddie fought for this country, just like his grandfather before him. He understands the need for secrets and the military, for rank and reality.</p>
<p> Sometimes it’s easier to claim aliens though, and sure, Eddie knows things and there are unexplainable things, but there has to be an explanation. There’s one for these lights, maybe not for the ones at Buck’s RV those years back, at least not yet. But there has to be one, somewhere, right?</p>
<p>“Don’t think too hard, Edmundo, you’ll hurt yourself.” Buck’s voice isn’t its usual teasing, it’s more dull and lifeless, exhausted as though he were running a marathon.</p>
<p> Eddie wants to say something back as equally as berating, but he’s tired, and Buck is, too. “Let’s go to bed, Buck, we’re both exhausted.” He says instead.</p>
<p> Buck continues to search the sky as he says, “I’m good.”</p>
<p> And Eddie wouldn’t leave Buck out here alone, even if the tent is only a few inches away so he nods and gives in, easily. But as soon as he decides it, his head is moving to the side, brushing against Buck’s briefly as the wiles of sleep out win any notion of consciousness. The sudden fingers in his hair, pushing down against the dull ache of tiredness does nothing to help the matter, and before he knows it, he’s out. Like a light. <em>Ha. </em></p>
<p>…</p>
<p> Somewhere in the night they find themselves in the tent, the cold descending on them in countless shivers that force them to seek shelter. Eddie’s not sure who drags who into the warm sleeping bags, but they end up there in the end, tucked against each other as the desert sun’s warmth from the day disappears almost completely. Eddie’s heard and knows how cold it can get out here, but he never thought it would be like this. He finds himself pushing further into Buck’s space, Buck hanging on back.</p>
<p> They sleep for a long time, until the sun shines down harshly and they’re sweating from the heat. Blankets pushed back and the other pushed back from each other. When Eddie truly wakes up he sits up to find with bleary eyes that Buck is nowhere to be seen. It scares him a little, a thump in his chest as he clumsily reaches for the zipper and heads out onto a sand covered floor.</p>
<p>“Hello.” Buck says, sunglasses tightly on as he holds himself, peeling off to the side. He waves with his free hand and Eddie turns away quickly, cheeks dusting red as he smiles, almost laughing himself. Sometimes Buck’s behaviour is odd to say the least, but this isn’t the first time Eddie’s seen Buck semi-nude, he’s sure it won’t be the last.</p>
<p>“Sleep good, Buck?” He asks as Buck zips himself up and walks over.</p>
<p>“Like a baby. I love the desert.” Buck tells him, all smiles and eyes kind, crinkling lines underneath that make Eddie smiles just as fondly if not more so.</p>
<p>“What time is it?” Even as he asks it he looks up, squinting against the sun to gauge where it is in the sky.</p>
<p>“Close to three.” Buck replies. “We should get going before we burn.”</p>
<p> And then with quick hands he reaches from somewhere, in the back of his pocket maybe, or the one in his multi-coloured sweater where a big pocket is right on the front, and with two on each sides, and pulls out a dark pair of sunglasses. Different from his own. Instead of squares they’re circle, the kind he wore in ‘Nam. The kind his grandfather wore. He hasn’t seen a pair like that in ages. It brings unexpected tears in his eyes. <em>How did Buck know?</em> Which is silly to ask, because even after all this time Eddie’s never found an answer. Only that he does, and that Buck always seems to know. Things he shouldn’t. No explanation, he just does.</p>
<p>“Thanks, Buck.” His words are a little more choked up and softer than he means to but Buck is smiling all bashful all the same. Cheeks dusted red as Eddie takes the sunglasses and slips them on. The sun dulling considerably as Buck heads back into the tent. Eddie takes that as his queue to have his own leak before they start packing up. Before they burn.</p>
<p> When they do get back on the road, after the sleeping bags and tent, and telescope are all packed away, Eddie finds that it’s much easier to drive now. He was going to bring his own sunglasses from work from home, but he forget them. It tends to happen when one plans a trip a day before, but Buck got him these and they’re far better. Eddie wonders briefly when he did get them, but knowing Buck he snuck them out somewhere along the way.</p>
<p>“Back to the diner?” Eddie questions.</p>
<p> Buck nods with a snap of his fingers before pointing little guns with them. “Aces.” He says, and smiles wide because of it like it’s some kind of inside joke, and in a way it is. They met a guy back in Nicon, a passerby, a backpacker in fact who would not stop saying that. It was funny at first but annoying after a while. Eddie wasn’t all too fond of him, but he couldn’t help but admire and grow envious of him. Being able to travel, just drop everything, and go. No stress. Even if it’s only for a while. But then of course he felt guilty after, because he’s got a wonderful son and aunt, and it’s a privilege to have time in his lives. He shouldn’t be complaining. ‘<em>Count your blessings, Edmundo</em>,’ his mom always used to say.</p>
<p> Wait.</p>
<p>Did Buck somehow know about that, too?</p>
<p> Eddie turns to Buck but he’s smiling, gently nodding along to the tune filling the car from the radio, long shaggy hair moving with him. Really, who knows?</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>“Thank you for everything, Shirley.” Eddie tells her sincerely as he looks through the window to check on Buck who sits in the car. He did come in, to use the John and give Shirley a hesitant hug, one she was clearly surprised at but accepted nonetheless, almost tears in her eyes. Buck retreated to the car pretty quickly after that, and Eddie can understand why. Outside of their family in Nicon, Buck hasn’t really been able to touch anyone else.</p>
<p>“I should be the one thanking you, that boy just hugged me.” Shirley’s voice is surprised and touched, and Eddie finds his hear clutching, too.</p>
<p>“Yeah, he’s doing good. Better, I mean, he’s different, according to his sister, but he’s good. He’s got his own newspaper and job, and house. And he’s got us.” <em>Me. </em></p>
<p> Shirley nods. “That’s wonderful to hear, truly. Now I know that you said you didn’t need anything, but I filled up the water and coffee, and I made a couple of breakfast sandwiches and some soft fruit.” She brings the items over and Eddie grins, a small chuckle on his lips, touched himself now.</p>
<p> He gathers it all in his arms, a bag thrown on his arm to carry it all and nods in gratitude and thanks. “Thank you, really. And thanks for the postcard, my son’s going to love it.”</p>
<p> She handed over one of their best postcards, one with one of their most popular photos of flying UFO’s on the cover. Eddie’s got Christopher’s name and Maddie’s address written on top already. They’re going to drop it in the mailbox once they get back into town, but they won’t be saying. Buck made that clear, and Eddie really can’t blame him. There’s something strange about the city of Las Vegas. An odd feeling. Besides he did enough gambling in his day, he once lost a little big and Shannon put her foot down, thankfully it didn’t go any farther than that.</p>
<p>“I’m glad. Anytime you want to stop by, our doors are always open.”</p>
<p>“I might have to take you up on that.”</p>
<p>“Next time, bring your son, too.” Shirley smiles and waves, and Eddie heads out. Because maybe he will. Christopher would love it here. Camping would have to be a bit different to accommodate him, but they could make it work. Eddie knows that he should call him soon, they agreed on twice a week, so when they get into town he’ll stop at a phone booth.</p>
<p>“Shirley left us some food.” Eddie tells Buck as he puts the stuff carefully in the back and hops into the front.</p>
<p> Buck nods. “Egg sandwiches.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, coffee first though, right?”</p>
<p> Buck doesn’t answer right away, instead he bites his lip, fingers moving together nervously and anxiously. Eddie can’t see his eyes through his shades, but by his posture, by the way he’s looking outside, Eddie knows that they’re lost, focusing on the ground because the night sky isn’t available. Anxious because of that fact alone, too. It makes something spasm in Eddie’s chest as he reaches out for his hand, slowly and carefully, moving his palm upward and waiting. He knows not to touch him right now, knows like maybe how Buck sometimes just knows.</p>
<p> It takes a few minutes but eventually Buck touches their fingers together, just one like they used to, holding it there for a moment longer before slip his palm against Eddie’s, threading their fingers together. Only then does Eddie hold back with a little more pressure until Buck grips tighter than usual. He grips back almost as hard because he knows pressure helps in grounding him.</p>
<p>“We’re in Nevada, remember? Close to Area 51, Groom Lake. We’re on a road trip and we’re at the Galaxy Highway diner. It’s just me and you in your car, and everything’s okay. Do you want to go outside?” Eddie’s voice is gentle, soft, even though his own heart beats wildly in concern and fear for Buck. But he does his best to stay calm, knows how that helps.</p>
<p>“No.” Buck says almost forcefully.</p>
<p>“Okay, Buck, we’ll sit here as long as you need.”</p>
<p>“I’m fine, Edmundo.” Buck says and his grip on Eddie’s hand relaxes just a little, but he doesn’t let go and neither does Eddie even think about doing so either.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong then, Buck?” His heart slows a little as Buck seems to calm down a little more.</p>
<p> It takes longer though before he says, “I miss him, too, Edmundo.”</p>
<p>It takes him an embarrassingly long moment before Eddie realizes who Buck is talking about. “Christopher?” He asks when he does.</p>
<p> Buck nods, biting his lip harder, enough to almost draw blood.</p>
<p>“Hey, hey, stop it.” Eddie lands a hand gently on Buck’s cheek, along his jaw until he lets go. “He’s fine. We’ll call him when we get into town. I’m sure he’s having a riot, and if he’s not, we’ll just drive back home. Or we can go home now.”</p>
<p>“No. We need to go on this trip.” Buck nods his head firmly and Eddie takes his hand away, the other staying locked in Buck’s.</p>
<p>“Okay, okay we’ll keep going, but we’ll talk to Christopher first, and mail this postcard. From the both of us.” With that Eddie reaches for it in the cup holder and the pen, handing it to Buck who stares at it a moment longer in some kind of surprise and shock. His face looking up to Eddie who smiles gently. “What? Like I was going to send this without you writing something?”</p>
<p> Truthfully he hadn’t thought about it yet, and it makes his chest ache in guilt and hurt, but he also knows that once he talked to Christopher, once Buck did, that he’d have Buck writing something down in a heartbeat. After all they’re a team, a sort of partnership. It wouldn’t be right not to. They’re in this together. Always.</p>
<p> Heck, Buck’s practically raised Christopher with him since he entered their lives, their orbits. Now they’re orbiting together. The same solar system, more than that, the same planet.</p>
<p> He watches almost lovingly as Buck writes out a short but simple and probably sweet message, signing with his name and a small drawn UFO. Eddie laughs a little, all fond and something like being in love only stronger, before he starts the car and they head out to go and talk to their kid.  </p>
<p>…</p>
<p>“<em>Hey, dad!</em>” Christopher’s voice is full of excitement, and Eddie can find himself relating. He’s missed him, too. It’s hard being this far away from him when they’ve been together for so long, most of his life now, but there was a time when he was gone a lot. Often. Those are the kind of memories Eddie would rather forget but is unable to.</p>
<p>“How are you, buddy? Me and Buck are in Las Vegas right now.” He explains, which is true but they’re both on the edge of the city, Buck didn’t want to go too further in and Eddie can’t say he blames him. He himself isn’t so keen either but before he left the car to go to the phone booth to make the call, Buck was giving him the side eye, little clues that they’re not going to be leaving this city so easily, or maybe it’s just Nevada. Eddie doesn’t mind the desert too much in all honestly, it’s a lot better than the jungle, but the desert is a reminder in its own way. Those lights from the other night, he can’t stop thinking about them. He knows logically that they’re probably military grade, some kind of top secret aviation experimental aircraft, but it was so… How does Buck put it? <em>Out of this world. </em></p>
<p>“<em>Near GL. Cool.</em>” Christopher says. “<em>Buck said he’d t- take me there o- one day.”</em></p>
<p> Eddie feels his throat close up a little. “Yeah, son, we both will.” It’s a promise, more than words, and Eddie can feel it in his bones that it will happen. One day. Besides Los Angeles and Los Vegas are only a stone’s throw from each other, although Eddie’s sure they won’t be actually staying in the city. He knows when he asked about the space center Buck gave him a disgusted look, and Eddie threw his hands up to it. He remembers the landing on the moon like it was yesterday. He was so much younger than, hand filled with a cigarette, sisters crowding around the television, their husbands and kids. His kid brother… <em>And that one hurts. </em>Nieces and nephews, his parents. Shannon with his arm thrown around her, passing the cigarette back and forth.</p>
<p> Buck was adamant against it and it hurt because it’s such a big part of their American history, of <em>their </em>history. But there was a challenge in Buck’s eyes and Eddie doesn’t want to start another argument. They disagree on many things, but at the end of the day, Eddie agrees that he doesn’t know everything and Buck agrees that neither does he. In that regard and their love for Christopher they’ve made it through the worst arguments. And if someone was pointing a gun to his head, Eddie supposes that he’d have to reluctantly agree that it’s their love that’s gotten them through it, too. Although that’s a bit too fruity even for him to admit in his head, let alone out loud.</p>
<p>“<em>I- I look f- forward to i- it dad. Did Buck take y- you to s- see the lights?”</em></p>
<p>“How’d you know about that?” Eddie feels a little twinge of annoyance that his son knows more than he does but it disappears just as quickly as it comes as he thinks of the two of them staring through a telescope together. Buck pointing out planets and constellations. Telling him the stories about them that the Greeks and Romans used to tell. Another night the Native Americans.</p>
<p>“<em>C- Come on d- dad. Who d- do you think helped p- plan the trip?</em>”</p>
<p> It sends an ice bucket of cold water over his head. “I thought this was last minute? Have you guys been planning this for a while?” He’s trying not get angry, but it hurts to know that they’ve been keeping secrets from him. He knows everyone has secrets, him and the War. Buck and his time in an elevator shaft. Christopher and that girl he’s been secretly calling. But this? “What’s going on here, exactly, Christopher?”</p>
<p> He hears the hesitant breath from his son, but they don’t lie to each other, not to their faces. Not like this, so it only takes a moment before Christopher begins to explain. “<em>D- Dad, you’re not over mom. A- And I m- miss her, too. But she’s gone and y- you could b- be happy. And th- there’s other things. Y- You have nightmares. An- and lately you guys haven’t b- been getting along w- well. After p- pepa, I’ve been worried d- dad. I just want you t- to be okay, dad… Please don’t b- be mad.” </em></p>
<p> Eddie’s brain short circuits a little. If he thought Christopher had grown up when he practically pushed him into the car towards this road trip, now he’s sure that’s an adult. He’s always been smarter than most people give him credit for. Not just in school, although he is pretty high up in his class, but also in life. In seeing things, understanding things, and situations. It seems he’s the one that hasn’t given him enough credit now.</p>
<p>“I’m not mad, Christopher.” He tells him, hand curling into a ball that he tries to let go of. “I’m just, Christopher, you don’t have to take care of me. I take care of you, remember? I’m the dad here.”</p>
<p> There’s a long silence before Christopher starts speaking, voice a touch sadder if not impossibly so. “<em>B- Before mom d- died she told me that y- you always acted tough, b- but that you n- needed help, too. That e- everyone needs some help, some t- time.”</em></p>
<p> The tears come and the grief soon after, and Eddie pushes them away, swallows them down the lump in his throat as he thinks of Shannon’s greying eyes, her pale skin. Her small body, slowly fading away. It’s horrific more than it’s sad. Anger inducing more than sorrowful. He wanted to hit something but he refrains. His son is on the line.</p>
<p>“I love you, Christopher.” He says, and it’s the first time he’s said in a while without prompting. With meaning it completely. It makes his skin crawl. He needs to do better. He thought he was.</p>
<p>“<em>I- I love you, too, d- dad.”</em> Christopher says, his voice a touch happier as he adds, “<em>Y- You’ll let Buck t- take care of you n- now.</em>”</p>
<p>“I’ll try.” It’s all he can give really, agree to. He never thought that it was so obvious how miserable he was. How every day feels like he was trapped underwater. A ringing in his ears when he wakes up, a heavy stone on his chest as he goes to bed. The only thing making it okay was his job, his need to be here as a deputy, father, nephew, and best friend. Now the nephew part is gone, and Christopher is growing up. The deputy part never meant much anyway, not in the way it does to the others, and the best friend part… Well, Buck’s sort of growing, too. Becoming his own man. Needing no help from him, not like before. Eddie’s role on his Earth seems to be fading. Husband was another he’d add, but that’s been long gone since before any of this. “Tell me what you’ve been up to? How’s the girls?”</p>
<p>“<em>F- Funny.”</em> Christopher laughs and then proceeds to tell an elaborate story about Reilly and Payton, and Maddie and Chimney. Half way through Eddie turns to Buck still in the car and waves him over. They push their heads together and listen to Christopher together, the story making them both laugh.</p>
<p> After they all talk together, and it feels right. This always has, but as he hangs up, Eddie can’t help but feel off. Like something’s not right. His son’s words getting to him in a way they never have before, that nothing has. Maybe he is a little lost. Maybe he does need to find himself, or whatever.</p>
<p>“Ready, Edmundo?” Buck asks, sunglasses in hand.</p>
<p> Eddie smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he grabs his own. “Yeah.” He puts them on and drives to their next location. Buck putting his on as well. He’s as ready as he’ll ever be.</p>
<p>“You’ll like this one, Edmundo. He’s a reporter. A skeptic.”</p>
<p> Eddie does let a small smile slip, one that’s almost genuine, because yeah, he just might.</p>
<p>“How about a little Credence?” Eddie asks, and flips the radio on to an old classic about rain. And if Buck sings along, and he joins him, who’s to say but themselves.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Who’ll stop the rain?” </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. iii. They Killed Kennedy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>iii. <em>They Killed Kennedy</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p> They don’t have to get far, a small town outside Las Vegas, a few miles to the border of Arizona to be exact is where they end up. Buck tells him that they’re here, outside a small hotel where cars are jammed packed in. Some kind of obvious conference that Eddie is likening to the Bigfoot one, although he’s sure there weren’t that many people at the other one. He watches the cars for a moment longer until Buck heads out and he’s forced to follow.</p><p>“Where are we, Buck?” The gravel crunches under his feet, and he knows where they are, he’s more so wondering why. Buck says they’re seeing some speaker, listening to him, and that he’s a skeptic more or less, but with Buck, when it comes to skeptics that’s something else altogether. Buck calls him a skeptic, although Eddie would never proclaim that title to himself, he’s always seen himself as more of a believer of facts, of some sort of evidence to back up claims. Lights in the sky, no matter how miraculous they may seem, no matter how, <em>out of this world</em>, they are, they’re just lights. Lights can be explained. Even if something tugs within himself to contradict that statement, that surety.</p><p>“The Birch Hotel.” Buck whispers as they make it to the front of an impressive doorway. This large building is nowhere near just built in this last century alone. It must be from the 1800’s, if Eddie had to guess. Big light stone filled with carvings of old. It’s intimidating, taller than usual, and it makes him feel something he can’t quite explain in the pit of his stomach. Shannon loved old buildings, she loved art and drawing, painting, and sketching. She always said that she was never that good, but maybe one day… She’d drag him places to make these places come alive on her canvases. He has a whole bunch in his basement. He almost forgot about them. He hasn’t thought of them in a long time. Maybe Christopher would like to see them again.</p><p>“This way.” Buck says as he leads him through a hallway until they’re at large doors into a huge, what must have been some kind of ballroom or banquet. It’s magnificent. Huge windows, arches, and sculptures. Broad tables and designs that predate his own lifespan. It’s a bit more modernized, but still holds that charm that makes it unique, its own creation. Eddie wonders briefly why they never make buildings like this anymore.</p><p> Shannon would have loved it here. He can almost see her smile, and hear her laugh.</p><p> There’s people everyone all dressed professional and business like, a few like himself and Buck with only ordinary pants and shirt. Buck’s got his blue white wash jeans on and his multi-coloured sweater, flip-flops on his feet that Eddie himself bought. A sort of, compromise. He himself wears simple dark jeans and a brown jacket, sunglasses tucked into his pocket. They don’t stick out too much, or at least he doesn’t, but Buck does get a few odd looks as they head to the seating arrangement in the far side, all facing a small set up stage in front of a huge window.</p><p> Buck grabs his arm and they find a seat, Eddie make sure to take his hand back as soon as they do. He looks to Buck’s happy features and notices how his hair is getting a bit matted again. Usually it’s Maddie who reminds him now to brush it out, but she’s not here. It seems it’s his turn for the honours again, and his clothing, both of their clothing in fact could use a wash. Eddie makes a mental note to stop somewhere with a laundry mat next.</p><p>“Hello, welcome everybody.” A man steps up to the microphone, smile charming and greying hair perfectly styled almost. “I’m glad so many of you could make it. I guess the story broke about me divulging national secrets.”</p><p> Everyone laughs, but Eddie doesn’t find it so funny, even though Buck clearly does.</p><p>“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is George Knapp, I’m a reporter in Las Vegas, spent the last, almost twenty years on the air. I was the first reporter to break the story of Bob Lazar.”</p><p> This gets a few people’s attention as well as Eddie’s own. He remembers Buck mentioning that name once a year or so ago. He was excited and nervous, anxious even. It took Eddie holding him in his arms with gentle pressure to get him to focus. They were outside, Buck staring at the stars, trying to hold onto something. That was the one and only time Eddie was really concerned about Buck and his newspaper, but after that night he was okay. Somehow he even seemed to get better.</p><p>“Today I’m going to talk a little bit about Bob Lazar and his wild story as well as maybe a few little tidbits on my latest project with a certain ranch. Although I understand if there are any Native Americans here who are sensitive to such subjects, I’ll make sure to let you know before we begin the second segment. But first and foremost, the reason I’m actually here, to promote our book.” He holds up a copy of something titled, ‘<strong><em>Dreamland: </em></strong><em>An autobiography.’</em></p><p> Eddie looks from the book back to the reporter, back to Buck who’s soaking up every word. He’s not sure what he’s in for until Mr. George Knapp starts bringing up this Bob Lazar’s history and how that shouldn’t cloud anyone’s judgement. Eddie’s pretty sure that it should. Because the story this man is spinning, seems impossible.</p><p>“Area 51… Who would have thought?”</p><p>…</p><p>“It just doesn’t make sense. One of the most formidable air force bases in the country, and they hire a guy without checking all of his credentials first? His background is shadier than a palm tree.”</p><p> Buck laughs at that, and Eddie almost lets a smile slip as he continues to drive across state lines. They’re in Arizona now, headed to Phoenix according to Buck. For what reason? Eddie’s not sure yet. It’s a bit of a drive though and it’s already dark. Eddie’s first stop and priority is finding a motel with a laundry mat close by and some kind of decent food. They haven’t eaten all that much since those egg sandwiches at <em>Galaxy Highway</em>. What Eddie wouldn’t give to have one of those right now.</p><p>“Yeah, sorry, not one of my best. But you get my point. It’s not adding up, and if it were true, that technology he saw doesn’t necessarily mean it’s extraterrestrial.” Eddie holds his hand up as best as he can while he’s driving to reiterate that point.</p><p>“It could be.” Buck says, and he’s all quiet, and if Eddie weren’t so caught up in the lunacy, as he calls it, of all of this, he’d notice. But his mind is whirling and he remembers the way people were smiling and clapping, buying into it without asking hard questions or exploring every possibility. In a world like this where ET’s are the new hot thing, people will do anything to make a few bucks. Heck, Buck’s newspaper sells like hotcakes.</p><p>“I mean, it just doesn’t make sense. Actual life aliens on Earth? In some secret base in the desert? It’s straight from a movie.”</p><p>“YOU don’t know EVERYTHING, Edmundo.” Buck’s voice is half yelling, half upset, and it makes Eddie startle as he looks to his best friend, face pinched in anger and upset. Tears starting to fall.</p><p>“Hey, no. I’m sorry.” Eddie tries as he reaches his hand out, but Buck sinks away from it, and Eddie has half a mind to pull over as his chest twists and turns within. He feels the bottom of his stomach give out, his heart falling and being crushed at the devastated and tearful eyes of Buck. They’ve always had a silent understanding, an agreement that he’s now just broken. Breached. He feels awful and terrible, and he wonders why he said all that. He was having his doubts but he didn’t have to say it like that. He should pull over.</p><p>“J- Just keep, d- driving.” Buck says through obvious sobs, his chest heaving as he puts his hands to his chest, curling into himself as he gets as far from Eddie as possible. Eyes locked on the skies above, and Eddie has never felt more horrible. Guilty. Except… He keeps driving, a lump in his own throat, fingers tightening on the wheel. Just wanting to get out of here. For everything to be okay. For Buck to stop hurting.</p><p> Didn’t he vow once never to hurt him like this again? To yell or get upset? And now he’s broken it. Where can there be forgiveness in that? When Buck has tears falling from his eyes, and Eddie himself a storm whispering across his mind. He want to stop, for it all to go away, but all he can think of now is the elevator shaft. The elevator period. He thinks of Buck stuck down there and his mind, whatever story it’s concocted isn’t real. It makes him angry because his whole life has become this… When it could have been finding a wife and having his own kids. Rising up from deputy to sheriff when Bobby left. To something greater.</p><p> Instead Buck writes a newspaper with no real credence despite him only putting facts down. A house empty and lonely. A life devoid of any real touch.</p><p> All because of one bad moment.</p><p> He finds a motel, there’s a laundry mat nearby. Buck waits in the car as he checks in, and then he’s back, driving up to their room. They make no attempts to talk to the other as they grab their bags. Although where Eddie would take Buck’s in for him, Buck stubbornly grabs his own and heads in, eyes anywhere but Eddie’s. Mostly on the sky, but then they go into the room and it’s the window.</p><p> Buck won’t even let him touch him. Moving away anytime he comes closer.</p><p>“Buck, I’m sorry. Alright? I forgot how seriously you take this stuff. I’m just, I’m concerned about you.” Eddie tries to be calm and reasonable. He thinks of the one therapy session he did have, back when Shannon first found out about the cancer. They were instructed that it helps so they went, but he was just so angry. The therapist tried to tell him a few techniques to help but he ended up storming off. Shannon found him a few minutes later at the cafeteria. She sat down with a tight smile and reached across the table for his hand which he gave. ‘Therapy’s not really for us, is it?’ She had said. Eddie smiling despite himself he pushed a tea over he ordered, never with himself in mind, but always her. </p><p>“I’m just worried. You haven’t got to any therapy, and trust me I don’t like it either, but what happened… It’s fucked up your life, Evan. Look at you, you’re living like a ghost. Clinging to something that isn’t real. There weren’t any aliens, Buck. There was just a man that you ate to survive.”</p><p> When he’s done, Eddie finds himself breathing heavily. His eyes wide and with his own tears of grief and guilt twisting within. He looks to his hands and sees the echoes of blood, not understanding or knowing why he’s saying this- these things. Why at all. He doesn’t even believe them, not entirely. In fact he’s defended Buck to the death to all the ones that they love, and now he’s attacking him!?</p><p> When he looks up to Buck, he finds him with eyes so sad, it <em>aches </em>him to look at. But it’s not for himself, it’s for Eddie. “What’s wrong with me, Buck?” Eddie finds himself asking, a lost sort of quiver to his tone. Not understanding or knowing why, only that it is. He’s never felt so sorry or out of place. He looks to his hands and the blood remains. He’s afraid and scared, and when he looks up again, he finds that somehow Buck has gotten closer, but he didn’t hear him. He just is. It scares him, the kind of fear that surpasses it even, he’s numb with it. <em>Guilty. </em>With it.</p><p>“Baby?” Buck asks, and his eyes are looking all over Eddie’s face, inspecting him and his hands. “There’s no blood.” His voice is so careful it’s eerie, it makes Eddie’s skin stand on edge as he stares into Buck’s baby blues. The only thing keeping him steady, and grounded. “Trust.” Buck says faintly.</p><p> It’s getting harder to hear, his ears are ringing.</p><p>“Yeah, I trust you, Buck.” He doesn’t know why he even said, ‘Evan,’ in the first place. Why at all.</p><p> It’s startling the touch on his cheek, but not unwelcome as he relaxes into it, a thumb stroking along as Eddie slips his eyes shut against the gentle cascade. He feels a hand in his, and then Buck’s other touching the other one, gripping on calmly as he leads him over to the bed. Eddie doesn’t open his eyes again, afraid of what he’ll see, but he trusts Buck enough to guide him under the covers, face pushed into the crook of his shoulder. It’s only then that he realizes he’s shaking.</p><p><em> What happened?</em> He wants to ask, but he doesn’t even know where to begin.</p><p>“Shh…” Buck whispers, a hand petting along his hair, and then, because he is, says, “You don’t know everything, Edmundo.”</p><p> He doesn’t understand. He can still feel the blood.</p><p>“We’re in Arizona, remember? I think we should leave.” Eddie doesn’t realize it, he’s sort of out of himself. Hearing himself whimper at that, like a scared or wounded animal. He doesn’t know where it comes from, can hardly feel it from himself. Outside of himself. Is how he feels. Unalive.</p><p> Buck says something more, but he it’s hard to hear him over the ringing. “I- ‘ve- g---go---ot------ y------ooooo----u.”</p><p> His eyes slip shut, warm and comforted, but all he feels is the wet sand and tastes of dirt. Of. <em>Blood. </em></p><p>…</p><p> He dreams of the lights from Nevada, and in those dreams they turn into helicopters. The yelling and gunfire as he tells his fellow solider to get down. The blood he tries to soak up and stop, but usually never can. What’s the point of a medic?</p><p> He finds Buck, as clear and golden as any angel stepping over bodies from one side, Shannon faded on another. His aunt’s voice whispering softly, a hushed lullaby.</p><p> Eddie avoids them all and looks up to the lights that dance in the Nevada skies.</p><p>…</p><p>“Eddie? Eddie? Sweetheart?” Eddie wakes up to Buck shaking him, eyes looking at him curiously as though he’s never seen him before. He sits up and finds himself in a motel room, the memories from the other night come back slowly, confusedly, but the hurtful words he said to Buck stand out among them all. Hurts the most. He’s not sure what happened to him, only that he hurt Buck.</p><p> He looks to his best friend and finds his eyes as kind as ever, a smile on his lips that’s hard to resist. Eddie matching it despite his guilt and regret. It comes out crooked and pained as he reaches out and pushes back a stray lock of Buck’s hair, a little greasy. It needs washed and combed. He was supposed to that. “I’m sorry, Buck.” He tells him. “I didn’t mean…”</p><p> Buck puts a hand over his mouth and shakes his head. ‘<em>No apology needed.’ </em>And because Eddie needs to, he pulls Buck into a tight and warm hug, big and full that Buck reciprocates. He feels like he hasn’t seen Buck in forever. As though they weren’t just stuck together like glue while sleeping.</p><p>“How long were we asleep?” Eddie asks into the crook of his neck. A swirling in his chest full of love that startles him with how much it’s unconditional. The kind of love that he’s only ever had with Shannon, a different kind of with Christopher, but no less strong. Although Buck is different from Shannon. That much is certain.</p><p>“You slept for fifteen hours, Edmundo.”</p><p> Eddie pulls away at that and rubs a hand across his face with a groan. “Fifteen?” He asks. “We’re you here the whole time?”</p><p>“I didn’t leave you.” Buck admits and it’s so soft and wonderful that it makes something in Eddie’s heart warm, but then Buck looks a little nervous and uncertain as says, “But we should.”</p><p>“Arizona you mean? Do we have to?” Eddie vaguely remembers Buck saying something like that last night but they just got here, and they have things to do.</p><p> Buck shakes his head.</p><p> Eddie smiles. “Good, because there’s a laundry mat nearby and we need to do some laundry. And you’re hair needs washed.”</p><p> He tugs a stray piece and Buck chuckles. Eddie lingers in this moment for a little longer, feeling very well rested and much less of an asshole than he did last night before he pushes the covers back and says, “But first a shower for me.” Everything is fine, except… Except when he’s under the hot shower spray, he looks down to his hands and half accepts there to be blood. He turns them over and sighs deeply in relief when there is none. When they come up empty and clean. Still, he washes them as though they’re not.</p><p>…</p><p> Utensils scrap on ceramic dishes of white, forks to be exact, and the kind of generic plates one would find in a generic diner along the highway, stopping in only for a quick bite until they’re on the road again. For Eddie and Buck, it’s a little more than that. There’s a motel next door that they’re staying at, a little laundry mat and gas station. A trucker’s hot spot to be exact, and they’re using up the space as much as possible. Eddie wants to do laundry, knows that Buck can’t keep wearing the same clothes every day and neither can he, but food seemed more pressing, since according to Buck he had been asleep for fifteen hours. Buck never leaving his side.</p><p>“Good?” He asks Buck who scrapes up the fried eggs in ketchup. Buck likes them plain, but he’s put it together with some toast this time, making a nice sandwich. There’s fruit too, some grapes and melon, a green one and an orange one. The kind they always serve places like this, the kind Buck sticks his tongue out at, but as Eddie’s pointed look, he recently swallowed and ate it. Not without exaggerated faces of disgust though of course, but Eddie makes sure Buck eats right. It’s one of the few things he can do for him, and it’s one of the most important according to Maddie. Buck’s diet is… Unconventional to say the least.</p><p> He himself is having something like tacos, he’s not sure exactly what, but it’s wrapped up tightly so Buck doesn’t have to see the meat. Eddie’s been reluctant to eat meat to say the least since his sudden bound of nightmares tied to elevator shafts, but he was starving, and there’s only so often a man can go without denying himself when it comes to meat. No pun intended. He tries not to think about it truth be told.</p><p>“Mhm.” Buck says with a nod around a mouthful of his sandwich, fork scraping up the egg pieces that fell, scooping them up into his mouth until it’s all gone in a matter of seconds. The coffee comes next and Eddie watches amused as he drinks half of it in one go, eyes switching to the outside that fades away from the afternoon into evening. He’s got his sunglasses slipped on in an instant, the sun brighter out here than usual. Than anywhere else really. It’s also got a strange energy to it, something in Eddie’s gut that he can’t quite explain. Maybe Buck feels it, too, maybe that’s why he wanted to leave.</p><p> He finishes off his burritos, or tacos or whatever and sips his water until it’s all disappeared. The waitress comes soon after to take it away, a nod of her head as Eddie says, “Check please.” His hand reaching into his pocket for the money, a bit for a tip. Buck watching him carefully through those darkened shades.</p><p>“I have money.” Buck says. “I can pay.”</p><p>Eddie startles a little at that and grins. “I know. How about you pay for the motel room next?”</p><p> Buck smiles, and it’s a secretive one, the kind he has when him and Christopher are up to something. Eddie’s on high alert now as he leans in with narrowed and careful eyes and asks, “What did you both do?”</p><p> Buck shrugs almost innocently. “Nothing.” He sips his coffee and Eddie shakes his head. He can only imagine. In fact he has a pretty good idea. Christopher has access to his bills and card, and Buck is pretty good at impressions. He probably put money into his account. Eddie wants to be angry or undignified, but he’s not. All he can do is sigh a little sigh and a bit of breath and fire Buck’s way, in truth it doesn’t matter much to him. They share almost everything, always in each other’s spaces. Orbits. It’s expected by now, and he really should have seen this coming. Hospitals are a lot, bills, too, and he just got done paying Shannon’s. Then there was his aunt. Heck, Buck probably paid those off, too.</p><p> One would think buying county land and building your own house along with buying a big RV and spending massive amounts of money on books would put some sort of dent in Buck’s bank account. In his lawsuit money, but it seems not. It was in the tens of millions, so it does make sense, but it does make Eddie a little uncomfortable. Just a tad though. In truth they’ve already shared so much in the past few years, what’s a little money, right? And yet… He feels bad for not being able to provide. Shannon would say it’s some kind of male pride, like not being able to stop and ask for directions which isn’t true because he’s never gotten lost. Not really. Not expect until maybe now.</p><p>“Let’s go back to our room, Buck. It’s time to do laundry.” Eddie smiles and Buck pouts, because he knows what’s coming, but he gets up anyway. Side by side to Eddie, they walk out.</p><p>“Clothes are clean.” Buck mumbles on the short walk back.</p><p> Eddie smiles, bumping their shoulders a little as he slips his own sunglasses on and says, “Your clothes haven’t been washed since before we left LA, Buck. That was nearly two weeks ago.”</p><p> Buck doesn’t argue, but he does continue to pout, which only makes Eddie grow all the more fonder, a shake of his head as he opens the door and they step in. He slips off his shoes, Buck doing the same with his flip flops and heads to his bag, Buck following. He reaches in and takes out a tee shirt and pair of sweat pants, the clothes he sleeps in usually, and hands it to Buck who stares at the pair in his hands with wide eyes. The sunglasses stashed away in his big pockets somewhere.</p><p>“Change in to these, and I’ll go and do the laundry, okay?”</p><p> Buck continues to stare.</p><p>“Come on, Buck. I know you wear my clothes when I forget them at your house. Maddie told me.” Buck’s cheeks tinge in red and Eddie chuckles a little. “It’s okay, I wear your shirts from time to time.”</p><p> It’s normal, is what he means to say, for them. They’re close. Best friends, family. They’ve known each other almost seven years. They’ve been to each other’s houses and back. Seen the worst and the best of one another. Been there for the other, loved the other and hated. Existed in the comfort of each other. It’s not the usual, but when has Buck ever been the usual? When has he? He can hardly ever remember a time he ever truly felt, <em>normal. </em>Nothing in his life has ever gone the way he thought it would, and right now trying to get Buck to let him wash his clothes proves to him how much he’s glad it hasn’t.</p><p>“Come on, Buck, sun’s going to be down soon before I get there.” Eddie encourages and that seems to do it as Buck snaps out of it and walks over to the bathroom. Eddie waits patiently before Buck has his bare arm sticking out, his clothing neatly folded up with the utmost care. Eddie takes the pile and listens as Buck turns the shower on. He’ll have to brush his hair after then. “I’ll be back in an hour or two! Make sure to get the potatoes out from behind your ears!”</p><p> He can almost see Buck sticking his tongue out at him for that one, which only makes Eddie laugh as he gathers the rest of the clothes, and heads to the laundry mat. It’s never a dull moment with Buck.</p><p>…</p><p>“Shannon’s mom, Maria brushed her hair when she was a girl. I remember her telling me about it, how she’d use a special kind that doesn’t pull. Shannon went through a phase of not wanting her hair brushed. It got all tangled and matt filled and her mom had to work extra hard to get it out. Then her mom got sick and Shannon brushed her hair until it was gone, and then I brushed Shannon’s.” Eddie’s combing down Buck’s light locks, Buck sitting with his back between Eddie’s legs on the floor. Eddie on one of the motel beds, comb running through gently. A tired and practiced feat.</p><p>“Matryoshka.” Buck says as though he speaks perfect Russian, which shouldn’t surprise Eddie, he’s seen Buck read Russian. Old newspapers and alternative research. Things that come by mail in the dead of night. Reports that are tucked in American made. A cloak and dagger sort of business. It scared Eddie at first until Buck looked him dead in the eye and said, ‘Stalin is dead.’ He sort of understood what Buck was saying, and his hand in his squeezing gently said something, too. Something about trust.</p><p> He’s not talking about some top secret space program now, or history never mentioned before. He’s speaking of the little Russian dolls that go one in after another. Eddie almost laughs but nods anyway, instead. “Yeah, I guess.” He sort of gets where Buck is going with that, understanding without words that he means it’s a cycle, the same thing over and over, passed from the other to the other. An action that changes something but still wears the same face of love and action. Of caring for. But Buck isn’t sick.</p><p>“I’m not going to die, Edmundo.” Buck says, and it’s startling, making Eddie pause in his brushing of Buck’s hair, but once he swallows that fear down, he begins again.</p><p> He wants to deny it, argue it, but they don’t lie to each other. They don’t keep things hidden from the other. Buck’s the one person he can tell these things, too, and vice versa. He doesn’t want that to change. “I’m sorry, Buck.” He tells him, because he is. He thinks of the fragility of life and it scares him. Scares him more than he can understand or comprehend. He’s seen so many people die, and he carries the blood of each, the sickness clinging to him like a second skin on the worst days. The little moments that allowed Buck to get out alive feel like a miracle in itself. He doesn’t want to imagine what his life would be like without him.</p><p> As though sensing this line of thought, Buck reaches out and takes his hand, holding it in his own as though to say the same. Eddie smiles a little and let’s Buck hold on as he continues with the last of his combing with his other hand. When he’s done he sticks the comb in Buck’s bag and touches his shoulder. Buck smiles up at him and Eddie heads to the other bed where his bag is, the map inside. He takes it out and follows his finger along their road of travel. “We’re almost to the Grand Canyon, is that where we’re headed?”</p><p> He looks up to Buck who has his knees up to his chest, arms wrapped around, and smile crooked. “I don’t know, Edmundo, is it?”</p><p> Eddie shakes his head. “Only with you, Buck.” He mumbles as he crosses off with a pen the road they’re probably going to be headed down. When he glances back to Buck to see his reaction, all he finds his Buck opening up that little black book, seemingly coming out of nowhere, and reading it intently. As though his whole world depends on it, and whatever it says.</p><p> Eddie’s not sure how long Buck does stare, only that he stares at Buck, too the whole time, mesmerized by Buck’s intensity. Eventually though, Buck looks up slowly, almost apologetically and says, “We have to make a stop first.”</p><p> Eddie gulps nervously, palms sweaty as the tension in the room grows. He’s pretty sure he’s not going to like whatever this is, but he trusts Buck, doesn’t he? So he nods. “Okay, Buck. Where to?”</p><p> Buck smiles something almost strained and gives an answer that means the world to him but nothing to Eddie, at least not yet.</p><p>“Where the pale rider is.”</p><p>…</p><p> They find themselves in a small town along the route to Flagstaff, Arizona. It’s in a school’s lecture hall that Buck leads Eddie to, a small place where only a few people sit, themselves included as the sun disappears into the horizon. A chalkboard stands in front of them, a man who’s a little heavy set, smile tinged on his lips as he drinks a glass of water. A woman nearby that he smiles, too. His wife maybe.</p><p> The clock above ticks down to nine, and Eddie wonders what they’re all waiting for, what he is. He’s not sure if this is the pale rider Buck was talking about, only that he is. His eyes light up when he smiles, but there’s something pale beneath them. Something dull and lifeless. Eddie feels a chill up his bones. He’s not sure what to believe, and Buck is looking at him with a smile, hand reaching for his under Eddie’s thrown jacket, a silent reassurance in a turbulence of uncertainty.</p><p> Eddie trusts Buck, knows that there is a reason that he brought him here, to see this pale rider, he’s just not sure as to why yet. What it all means, what’s the purpose? Another crazy story of a Bob Lazar? Of alien technology? Or ghosts stories of a ranch filled with old curses and legends of old, and renowned? Or is this something else? Something entirely different?</p><p>“Well, it seems to be striking nine and it seems this is the best audience we’re going to get, but God willing we’ll find out way to a larger audience.” The man starts speaking, eyes gathering across their faces as though he’s trying to see something, Eddie’s not sure what. “My name is Bill Cooper. Bill to my friends, and my lovely wife Ruth. I was in the army for a short time as a Naval intelligence officer and while I was there I was privy to sensitive information. Now what I’m about to tell you may shock you, and it may even make you hate me but I only ask this; that you keep an open mind and don’t believe anything that you can’t back up with your own research.”</p><p> Eddie likes that. He likes that last part, because it leaves room for doubt and questions. The other man Buck brought him to was a reporter, and while they might claim to search for the truth, Eddie’s never been so sure about that. And the way everyone followed along without any real proof, that’s not who he is. At least not in the way that Buck. He doesn’t believe in the impossible, he believes from experience and his own understanding. Boots on the ground, the smell of death in the air.</p><p> The man, Bill, holds up his military record of service. Proof that leaves Eddie feeling more settled. Bob Lazar had no proof. But then he starts talking of alien invasions, how he believes that the government is either furthering one, or creating some kind of hoax, that part leaves Eddie breathless with laughter rather than wonder, but Buck’s eyes are serious, more so than Eddie’s ever seen them before. They looks almost scared, he does. Eddie squeezes Buck’s hand in his in response. Buck tries to smile back, but it falls flat. In fact, he almost looks, sorry.</p><p>“I have here a memo that proves that the Gulf of Tonkin incident was staged and based upon lies. There was no declaration of war from the Vietnamese, and there was no reason for us to go to war either.”</p><p> He holds up a document, a few in fact, clear copies that he hands around, and when they land with Eddie and Buck, Eddie stares, transfixed and confused, and unbelieving. This is some kind of joke, isn’t it? It has to be, there’s no way that this real or true. Men he knew… Men… <em>They were fighting for freedom.</em></p><p>“I believe there is a conspiracy to the highest levels. I believe that President Kennedy knew about this, and that is why he was killed. Now, I asked that no recording devices be used as I show you this tape. It was acquired to me by a man cannot name for his own protection, but what I can tell you is that it is the lost footage of Abraham Zapruder.”</p><p> A projector screen is brought down and a projector rolled in. Eddie watches as he goes over that name in his head, rolling it around as he starts to recognize it and recall what it has to do with President Kennedy. It feels like forever ago that it happened. They say that the shot that was heard around the world was in Europe just before World War I, but if Eddie had to guess, he’d say it was Kennedy’s assassination. He remembers that day, November 22<sup>nd</sup> 1963. The day he saw his father cry for the first time, a drink in hand, and his mother rolling out cookies. Anything but to think about what was going on. Chaos almost reigned it felt like. The end of something that could hardly be named.</p><p> There was footage, of course there was, but it was shaky at best and they didn’t capture it all. In fact what it did capture was another man who looked like he was holding a camera. Is this what Bill Cooper is talking about? Is that even possible? Eddie’s first thought is no, and that this can’t be real, but Buck’s hand in his tightens, and he realizes then as they turn off the lights that he’s shaking a little. Tremors, as though an earthquake is about erupt. And who knows, maybe it is. Maybe he’s scared.</p><p>“Please take some caution, this footage is not for the faint of heart.” It’s like a movie or something, except that it’s not. In front of him is something so real, it strikes him numb to his very heart.</p><p> The footage is in colour, grainy and a little out of focus as it would be for 1963, but it shows something Eddie’s never seen before. Something impossible. The driver, a CIA agent sworn to protect his Commander in Chief turning around and holding a pistol. A gun. He pulls it and shoots, and Eddie is slack jawed. He doesn’t believe, he doesn’t, except that despite the numbness of his body and his heart, he can feel it. The truth. Right in front of him, but impossible to comprehend.</p><p> Bill shows it over and over, explaining the light glare and how the gun works. Eddie’s not sure of any of it, except that… That he just watched the President die, by his most trusted. By the country Eddie has believed in and fought for. The President who didn’t even want war in Vietnam to begin with. <em>All-American, baby. </em></p><p>“The person who killed the President was not Lee Harvey Oswald, but in fact, CIA special agent William Greer.”</p><p>
  <em>They killed Kennedy.</em>
</p><p> And suddenly it’s too much, his heart beats too fast and he feels sick. His lungs fill in and out too heavily, too fast. Eddie can’t <em>breathe. </em>He feels trapped and alone, and lost. His whole world has just been ripped away and there are fucking tears in his eyes as he takes his hand out of Buck’s and leaves. Half running into a hallway, out into open air, until he can kneel down on grass, on something <strong><em>real</em></strong>.</p><p> It shouldn’t surprise him really when Buck catches up quickly, standing behind him almost afraid. Nervous. Scared. “Is this what you wanted to show me, Buck!? Well!?” He turns around, trying to breathe in and out, tears threatening their way through. And Buck looks so guilty and sorry, that Eddie does, too. He turns back forward and slips his eyes shut as his chest continues to heave. Hands on his face up into his hair, he finally looks up to the sky. To the stars that shine above, and he, in his own way, now gets lost in them, too.</p><p>“I’m here, Edmundo.” Buck promises, and he is, his body pressed against his own, but Eddie doesn’t look at him, his eyes are trapped on the skies, on the millions of Heavenly bodies above.</p><p> He swallows around the lump in his throat, and while still watching them shine, asks, begs, and pleads to Buck to, “Show me. Show me, everything, Buck.”</p><p> And Buck reaches out his finger that Eddie laughs wetly at but connects with his own, hands merging together in silent promise, before finally Buck nods.</p><p> And then, together, they both look up, unable to look anywhere else.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Part Two - i. An Orb In Our Skies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eddie tries to reconcile the truth with belief, while Buck tries not to break them.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies for the bad editing, will go back and edit it better later.<br/>Thank you for all your lovely comments, enjoy. x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eddie finds himself driving them back to the motel in a state of some kind of shock, he’s on autopilot the whole way there, mind and body not connecting in the slightest. It seems almost dangerous in retrospect the next morning, but for now he allows the hum of the engine and Buck’s hand on his arm squeezing tightly to be the only things grounding him all the way there. There was a look in Buck’s eyes before they got in, almost as if he wanted to take the keys and drive himself, but Eddie, even in this state would never allow for that. It could be even more dangerous, there’s a reason Buck’s not allowed to drive.</p><p>“We’re here, Edmundo. Right along the trail of flags.” Buck says slowly from beside him, but this voice carries into the recesses of his mind where he sees only the crisp green of a humid jungle.</p><p> He turns though, at the sound of his best friend’s voice and nods. It’s enough for Buck to smile back, almost carefree as if this were any other night of their road trip, any other night of their lives. As if Eddie’s hasn’t just been turned completely on its axis, the rug from underneath which his feet have always soundly stayed, being pulled out from under him, ripped into shreds by another’s hand. He follows after Buck, the keys locking the door behind them before they’re in the room, back to the musky smell of old cigarettes and silent tears, maybe even an echo of a child’s laughter.</p><p>“Edmundo?” Buck says slowly when the door shuts behind him, clicking with the force of his hand locking it into place. His body stays turned to the wood panel of it all, his breathing barely controlled. He doesn’t turn around for a very long time, but when he does, Buck’s eyes are trained on his, as if they’ve always been there since before.</p><p>“I’m going to take a shower.” He replies and turns, walking into the bathroom to do just that. The water is a welcome feeling, but it runs off of his skin like the light of the moon. He’s not sure where to begin or where to end in it all, only the distinct feeling of something twisting with his gut. The distinct feeling of that guilt-wrenching betrayal. His heart is somewhere in the bottom of his stomach, maybe it even flipped out and went crashing through the floor, into a hole of chasm that he falls ever the more deeper into. A darkness that touches him, and burns him in a way that holds no feeling.</p><p> He’s numb he supposes, with the shock of it all. People keep walking and moving, and going on with their business but he knows the truth now. At least some of it. It stares at him blindly in the face and it will not let go. He sees the outline of the gun, the pictures moving as a man that was supposed to be trusted, has been trusted, turns around and kills the 35<sup>th</sup> President of these United States, the land of freedom and justice, in the head. <em>William Greer. </em>CIA.</p><p>
  <strong> November 22<sup>nd</sup> 1963.</strong>
</p><p> His fists curls and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s hitting the tile in front of him, over and over. His flesh biting into the ceramic material, breaking apart his skin, cutting himself open as blood begins to pour. He doesn’t know it, but every bang against the wall, Buck flinches at outside, fingers curled into his hair and teeth biting into his lips as he himself tastes blood. It doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop.</p><p> The water carries it away, but he’s left panting in the crumbling of bathroom tile, blood, sweat, and tears. He heaves and shakes, and the water grows cold. He turns it off and hears the rainfall of gunfire. Barely even registers as Buck walks in carefully, towel in hands, pulling it over himself, wrapping him up as if he were a child, a hand on his hair that’s soothing as Buck crawls into the tub, clothes and all, little regard for his favourite jeans and multi-coloured sweater that he treats with reverence. He pulls him into his chest, naked and soaking, towel wrapping tighter around himself, lips in the wetness of his hair, a soothing hum in his tone that he’s sure he doesn’t deserve.</p><p> Eddie reaches out anyway, bloodied hands curling into the fabric of his sweater, hanging onto him like his life depends on it. Curling into his own flesh, cutting his skin deeper, making the blood fall faster. His nose pushes into the crook of where Buck’s shoulder and neck meet, arms holding onto him tightly, rocking him ever so slightly. Eyes slipping shut into the comfort of it all, into the horror.</p><p> A song plays, one they both know by heart now.</p><p>“<em>…The day the music died. And I was singing, bye- bye, Miss. American Pie…” </em></p><p>He’s not sure how much longer later, but later, somehow Buck gets him to the bed, out of the bathroom and the mess he’s created, onto the softness of pillows, wrapped still in the white motel bathroom towel. Buck’s eyes never leave his as he wraps the blanket around his shivering form too, hands on his, holding the bleeding mess up and away. A hand along his hair, a silent reminder against skin that he’s here. Eddie’s eyes shift shut for a brief moment in the contact before he opens them again and Buck nods. “I’ll be right back, Edmundo.” Eyes wide, he promises.</p><p> Eddie almost reaches out for him, but his fingers curl painfully around thin air as he turns and walks out of the motel room, keys in hand. Eddie’s heart lurches, fear in his bones for whatever Buck is going to do, maybe drive his car off the cliff, but he should have more faith in the other man. More trust, it’s just… After everything. He <em>needs </em>him, like he never has before. Can’t breathe when he’s gone.</p><p> But he comes back, smile filled with dimples and hair waving in the wetness of his clothing. He locks the door behind him and brings the first aid kit that Eddie has stored in the trunk of the car easily up to him, sitting cross legged in front of him as he takes his hand into his lap. The skin torn and frayed. He wants to pull back, he tries to, but Buck is firm as he says, “Simon says to keep your hand still.”</p><p> It sends a strike though his heart, reminds him of simpler and harder times all at once. He blinks up at his best friend who smiles almost cheekily back, but it’s more soft. More kind in his compassion. Eddie can’t find the words to say anything, so he just bites his tongue, along his lip too and listens. Moving his hand minutely into Buck’s touch.</p><p> The first aid kit is opened and Eddie watches impressed as Buck carefully and meticulously cleans out every open scrape, every piercing of skin. The disinfectant burns but it lasts only moments before Buck is wrapping up a tight gauze in careful consideration, in a healing touch. Tucking it under more until his hand is neatly tied up, bound together in a healing array. It’s only then that his eyes open again, first closed at the burn, now opened at the soothing of it. He looks to Buck who tilts his head and nods like he’s done something great, and maybe he has.</p><p> Eddie reaches out, unable not to and touches along his head, fingers through his hair a little until his hand lands warmly on his shoulder that’s still a little wet. “Make sure you change, Buck. You’ll get sick.”</p><p>“The flames of glory cannot touch me.” He smiles proudly but jumps off the bed all the same and reaches for his bag, pulling out some clothes for the both of them. He turns, allowing Eddie the privacy to change himself and he does, Buck doing the same, leaving his clothes laying out on the other bed to dry.</p><p> Somehow they end up under the covers together, the soft sound of the radio on their nightstand playing into the echoes of the room. Buck also brought that in, Eddie hadn’t even noticed, but it’s nice, the voice that’s slightly waves, it hushes him, like a lullaby to sleep, moving with the ache of his hand. He turns, pressing his face into Buck’s shoulder, arm slung over his chest, bringing him into himself. Buck goes along, a smile in his hair and a soft kiss in his hair that he doesn’t feel like he deserves. That makes his skin tingle.</p><p> But then the air shifts a little and Buck is saying through a saddened voice, “I’m sorry, Edmundo.” A moment of startling clarity that has Eddie freezing, eyes widening. He wants to be angry, to yell and hurt, but he’s done that already. And in the aftermath of it all, he can see… <em>everything. </em>He wants to see it. Needs Buck to show him. Feels almost like the whole world and beyond is all set before him. Everything was so sure, now, anything is possible. There is just so much he needs to know.</p><p> There’s tears in his hair and his thumb is already moving along the skin of Buck’s shoulder, comfortingly as he says, “Shh, sweetheart. Don’t cry.”</p><p> Buck holds on tightly back, and before Eddie knows it he is to. Squeezing onto the other, almost intending in a silent promise to never let go. As though holding onto each other is all they have to hold onto at all.</p><p>“…I’m not.” He finishes. “I’m a little pissed,” He chuckles almost darkly in his honesty but he’s not going to lie to Buck, never that, “I won’t lie about that but you did it- you showed me this because you knew I needed to see it, right?”</p><p> He feels Buck nod, breath ghosting along his cheek, forehead pressing firm into his hair. Eddie nods back. “I trust you, Buck.” <em>God help him</em>, but he does. “I trust you.”</p><p> There’s nowhere Buck would go, that he wouldn’t follow. It didn’t take the first time he disappeared for Eddie to figure that out. It was their first meeting, when his eyes were lost, trying to s<em>ee</em>, that Eddie knew he wanted to, too. If Buck took off in his RV one day, he would have followed, but Buck never did. So maybe Buck was staying for him just as much as Eddie is going for him. But it’s more than that now. It’s for both.</p><p>“Don’t worry, Edmundo,” He says through some kind of wonderful and terrible tears, “I’m going to show you, <em>everything.</em>”</p><p> He laughs wetly, affectionately as a hand reaches up and out, finger pointed, his own meeting, their hands melding into a hold that’s, that does not let go.</p><p>“I’m looking forward to it, Buck.”</p><p>…</p><p> In the morning the coffee tastes better than it ever has before. Buck brews it with a smile, and Eddie tries not to look at the mess in the bathroom when he takes his morning leak, but it’s hard not to notice. His hand throbs, but Buck’s gentle touch along the gauze helps to soothe it a little. “Four weeks.” He declares as he does so, before smiling and turning back to the machine to pour them each a cup into the cups they sort of stole from a few motels ago.</p><p> Eddie can’t help smile too, he knows without needing Buck to explain what exactly he means. Four weeks for it to heal, somehow he just knows this, and the motel cups they stole because they’re drinking on the road. Eddie doesn’t even want to argue this time. Mostly because he’s trusting Buck here, but also because the mess in the bathroom reminds him too much the tightness in the chest and the betrayal that burns.</p><p>“I took care of it.” Buck announces when he comes out of the bathroom, clothes from yesterday now dry it seems as he’s wearing them now, his favourite ones. The multi-coloured sweater that never gets old, and light blue washed jeans. He pulls the hood up and reaches for his sunglasses, for Eddie’s own too. He pushes them onto his face and Eddie laughs but lets him before a cup of coffee is in his hands.</p><p>“Buck, we should really-” He tries to say as they grab their items, but Buck’s already putting his arms a box of granola bars. He stares almost incredulous and then shakes his head, following Buck out. “Alright.” He concedes as they pack up the car, him in the driver seat, Buck in the passenger one.</p><p> His damaged hand comes down to his side, resting unless needed. He’s pretty good at driving one handed already, even if it is a little dangerous. Buck doesn’t say anything though, he just unwraps one of those bars and holds it up to him saying, “East.”</p><p> Eddie takes the bar and chews into it even though he’s not the slightest bit hungry. “East.” He repeats before holding the bar up to Buck, pointing it as him as he says, “But only if you eat one too.”</p><p> Buck smiles and holds up another already halfway gone, knowing that Eddie’d ask that it seems. Eddie shakes his head but hits the gas, turning the car, <em>East.</em> “We headed to New Mexico then?” He asks, and then because he thinks with a shuddering breath, “A few more miles and you’ll be taking me home, Buck.”</p><p> Buck seems uncomfortable at this pointing out of the truth, body shifting a little, but he doesn’t comment on it and even though Eddie wants to ask, he doesn’t. <em>Trust. </em>It’s gotta go both ways, right?</p><p>…</p><p> They find themselves on a hill in New Mexico, where everywhere they turn it’s sandy mountains and lost trees. Brittle and broken, and filled with a deserts heat. Buck tells him to stop somewhere along the highway, Eddie obliges and then follows the off road track into a mountain reverie. Where the only water around lays, and where the beauty of a world without leaves lays too.</p><p>“Buck… Are we staying here for the night?” Eddie can’t help but ask as he looks to the fast approaching sun that fades into an old horizon.</p><p> Buck grins and lifts his arms in the air before putting his face upwards and yelling with eyes tightly held fast shut something indecipherable, but in obvious joy. Eddie finds himself smiling from burning cheek to burning cheek as Buck runs down the hill he made them climb on, he watches as Buck yells and laughs in childlike delight before he’s jumping into the small steep of water, clothes and all.</p><p> “Buck!” Eddie yells in concern, running to him at full force, but refraining from entering the water himself. He stares, heart hammering as his eyes search from one corner of the water to the other. He doesn’t jump in, somehow he knows that Buck isn’t really drowned, and he gets his truthful answer when Buck comes up from out of the water, laughter on his lips as he reaches out and pulls him under. Eddie wants to fight, but the look of such happiness in Buck’s makes it impossible to fight against him. He wouldn’t really want to anyway.</p><p> He lands in, clothes and all and throws water Buck’s way as soon as he’s gained air. Buck only giggles and smiles with dimples shining, tears in his eyes that Eddie can’t quite understand, never has before, but now- now maybe he’s starting to. “It’s freeing, right? That’s what this is about?”</p><p> Buck’s smile turns grief stricken. “We’re all trapped, Edmundo, and we’re all free too.” But then he’s splashing water back, and the world turns a little happier. Because Buck is, because it’s not all ugly. It can’t have this, no one can this- this is <em>theirs. </em>Eddie feels the up tug of lips and joins Buck in laughter that makes tears fall that he can’t full describe himself or understand, just that Buck is here and he is joyful. And the world is forgiving in these moments. But he doesn’t want to swim forever.</p><p> They’re on the dirt, backs wet on the heat of it all as the sun beats down. Eddie squints his eyes, words tumbling out of, “I wish I had my s-” but before he can finish, Buck has two pairs, his own and Eddie’s in his hand, holding them up as they drip of water. And Eddie wants to be angry that he jumped into the water with them, but Buck’s happy and at peace- nay, almost content expression stops him. He takes the sunglasses and slips them on, and they’re not bad. No lasting damage, they’re just fine.</p><p> <em>They’re just fine. </em></p><p>“Maddie said there was a ghost under your bed when you were younger.” Eddie tells him. “Did you believe in… In all of this then, too?” He shakes his hands above him, indicating a mess of belief. Hands falling back to his sides as Buck’s silence persists. Eddie falters a little, but he’s used to Buck’s silences. He likes the silence too. But sometimes he likes to talk, and Buck likes to listen. “I used to have a ghost in my closest, I thought it was a monster, some old story my grandpa used to tell us. My pepe, she- she gave me a cross and I wore it every night. She said it would keep the monsters away.”</p><p> Greif grips his throat, it’s tight and holds fast, but his will to remember her is tighter.</p><p>“I wore it to the War… In ‘Nam.” He takes a breath, chest rising and falling. “But it didn’t keep them away.”</p><p> His eyes are on the clouds, big and fat, and rolling by. He remembers grass encircling his arms and hands, the blood pounding in his skull, his heart like a drum. All around they dropped, <strong><em>boom- boom- boom</em></strong>, he was relatively okay, but he couldn’t get up. He just… <em>Couldn’t. </em>His cross was held tightly in his hands, his breath coming out in pants. He just- he just needed to get up. He was the only medic left.</p><p>
  <em>“Get up! Get up, Diaz!” </em>
</p><p> A hand is in his startling him a little as he looks over, turns to find Buck’s bright blue eyes in world of desert storms and beauty. There is no jungle, no face paint of camouflage. No bullets flying or bombs dropping, just the warm press of a finger against his. Just the cool water and heated sun.</p><p> Buck smiles with all the joy in the world and opens his hand, allowing for Eddie to fight against himself in his reaching to Buck. To put his palm flat against Buck’s own. To allow the comfort of a tight hold, of the sand on the back of his hand, Buck’s on the other side, grounding him down into the New Mexico desert. In something more than a jungle and rain soaked bloody puddles. Mud and grime, and- and… <em>hell. </em></p><p>“The water was nice.” He says into the silence it leaves, his voice cleared just a little as Buck squeezes onto his hand with his own.</p><p> He hears only the wind.</p><p> The sun sets and they find themselves on top of that hill with a tent pitched and Buck’s telescope all set up and pointed to where the moon begins to illuminate and show itself. It’s quite beautiful, three quarters of the way full. Buck grins goofily at him and hands over a bag of snacks he snuck into the trunk of his car. They never formally stopped for food but they did have to get gas once or twice, and Buck was quick to sneak in and sneak out, Eddie didn’t even notice him but that was probably because he was sneaking a cigarette with shaky hands on the other side of the building, hastily putting a piece of mint into his mouth to cover it up. Still, he’s sure Buck knows. He always does. But he says nothing.</p><p> Eddie’s eternally grateful. He already feels enough shame, if Buck pointed it out, it would be a million times worse. His anger even might get the best of him. It sits there, you know? Right on the edge, on the cusp of becoming something greater, maybe it always has, since Shannon, since maybe even before, but Buck doesn’t seem to mind. His face always wrinkles up in worry rather than fear. And for Eddie it’s the same whenever Buck mumbles in ancient Latin or Russian. A language array that Eddie never knew he was capable of, but his newspaper makes him so.</p><p> All the books he found in Buck’s room also do the same. The tapes. The cassettes. Buck likes to learn. <em>Everything. </em></p><p>“Chips isn’t very healthy, Buck.” Eddie says, but he takes them anyway, starving.</p><p>“Tomorrow.” Buck says simply, and looks to him with a smile that steals Eddie’s breath away. He nods with a short burst of laughter.</p><p>“Alright, Buck, tomorrow.” He knows what Buck means, that tomorrow in the morning they’ll be racing off to a new location, but that they’ll stop for proper food first. If old diner coffee and greasy food are proper food, but Eddie will make sure there are vegetables to be had, fruit. Something fresh and real. Maybe even milk. Buck likes chocolate, just like Christopher. Maybe he’ll find a postcard in this diner, maybe Buck will pick one with it. When he looks Buck’s way over the telescope between them, Buck’s eyes twinkle, a half smile out of the corner of them that Eddie doesn’t miss. He’ll pick one.</p><p> <em>He heard him. </em></p><p>“Come, look Edmundo. Look at the picture.” Buck says and moves away from the telescopes careful eye. Eddie feels hesitant, but one look at Buck’s reassuring nod of his head has him feeling more assured as he takes his seat, and stares.</p><p>“Looks like the moon, Buck.”</p><p>“Look longer. Harder.”</p><p> And before, before Kennedy maybe Eddie would have grumbled something in his mind about this being stupid, while outwardly saying he’s just going to look with his normal eye, but now Kennedy did happen. The truth was in front of his eyes. He saw that second gun, he saw a murder of the worst kind. The end of any illusion of freedom, hope, and morality. Of the truth. Now he listens to Buck, he lets him show him, this everything. He stays and he waits, and he watches even when his back grows cramped and his eyes grow sore from watching. He watches even when Buck has to help him move the telescope because the moon is moving too.</p><p> He watches until something shines in his eyes, something that he just misses. Black and moving, and swiping by. He pulls away abruptly, wide eyed on Buck who grins from ear to ear. And he remembers something, from before, when he knew nothing of Buck’s tragedy, when Buck knew all of his. <em>“They move in front of the moon… It’s not real…”</em></p><p>“What was that Buck?”</p><p> Buck shrugs, but Eddie can see the spilling of secrets in his perfect blue eyes, the hair moving over his shoulder to show a stark reminder of where this all started, a scar that never fades and something deeper that is in entrenched in his bones forever. In his very being, an imprint into his soul. Eddie always thought like a solider when it came to that event, but now he questions, and he realizes that he never quite heard the story from Buck’s own lips. So how is he to hypothesis what happened? How is he to jump to conclusions when Buck has never spoken or uttered a word of it, since? Not even to himself.</p><p> Maybe Buck doesn’t trust him, but Eddie knows, ashamedly with eyes falling to his hands that is not the truth.</p><p> Now that he sees the truth, it’s a little easier to gleam the lies too. Somewhat. He knows not the full truth yet, but he will. He will search until it kills. And with startling realization he begins to understand Buck a little better.</p><p> Buck’s still watching him when he gets the courage to look his way, in the light of their flashlights, on low just enough to see the knobs and workings of the telescope, but not enough to blind away the stare and the darkness that they are surrounded by. Eddie feels a need to touch, to hold onto something that is real right then, something that is within the scope of light and truth, and so he touches Buck, hesitantly on his arm, a soft reassuring hold before he lets go and turns his full body to the sky, his whole head looking up in absolute wonder and horror at the lies, and at the truth that could be.</p><p> <em>Nothing is certain, but is nothing real? </em></p><p>“Tell me about the moon, Buck.” He asks, and it’s like Buck was waiting for this question the whole night, because his voice, animated and excited, and very real begins to speak. To weave a tale through empty holes in reports and questions. In uncertain absolute truth. Eddie wouldn’t want to hear it from anyone else.</p><p>“The moon landing was in 1969 on July 20<sup>th</sup>. It was broadcasted live across the world after the footage was received by central command. In Houston, Texas. We all watched as these men in space suits supposedly landed on the moon, but if you look through the footage there are anomalies and unanswered questions. When the astronauts returned, there are holes in their story, and their behaviour was odd… Not to mention the science behind it, behind the Van Halen belts and the plasma. The stars that were seen and could not be seen. The equipment used… People have claimed that odd things happen with the moon.”</p><p>“You have section in your newspaper just for that.” Eddie comments mildly.</p><p> Buck nods, glee in his eyes as he smiles. “You read it.”</p><p> Eddie feels his heart give a little as he looks back, hand on Buck’s hair, to ruffle it but deciding on last minute to pet it down gently. “Of course I do, Buck.” Even when he thought it was silly, he always did. Buck always gave him and Christopher the first copy. “Have I ever not read anything you gave to me?”</p><p>“I should stick to the facts.” Buck says, his eyes welling up and his fingers scraping into his other fingers, holding on tightly in what Eddie first thought all those years ago was nerves, now realizing that it’s just when Buck feels an overwhelming feeling of emotions that burst up in him until he feels like he’s going to explode, turning into full-fledged anxiety. Until maybe even his teeth break skin and his fingers pull out hair. That’s only happened once, to that extreme and it was terrifying and maybe even ugly, but no one said what happened to Buck and what he’s left with ever was supposed to not be.</p><p> The event was ugly that left these wounds that keep bleeding, why should they not be?</p><p> And yet, Eddie feels undeniable anger for it all. He understands his colleagues, understand the mistake, but he dreams of the blood. He dreams of Buck.</p><p> Slowly he reaches out with his bandaged hand, enough for Buck to pull away but Buck never does, and lands them over Buck’s two fidgety ones. Buck stares, swallowing hard before he grips back onto Eddie’s hand like it’s a lifeline. Tight and almost bruising, digging into the wounds but Eddie doesn’t let go, not even despite the pain. He allows the feel of Buck pressing into his side, as if to burrow into him, Eddie moves his arm around, pulling him close into a blanket, wrapping them both up as Buck shakes, hand still clutched in his, face pressed into his chest.</p><p> The first few times this happened, he comforted, but sometimes Buck needs distraction more, or the same as that comfort.</p><p> Softly, he says into the top of his hair that he realizes he needs to brush for him soon again, “You were telling me about the moon.”</p><p> His words come out shaky until they’re strong again. Eddie gives him some of his strength, Buck takes it, and in the morning Buck gives him of his own strength. They take and give, and love, and the world seems okay in their little on that they make of it, but Buck tells him about the moon, and Eddie listens and they both think of things beyond even this world. And a tiny part of them sees into a tiny crack of it and wonders how and when they break it all open. Even if the fallout is severe, both feels a temptation to do it anyway. To rip the curtain right off.</p><p>“Look, Edmundo, that’s Venus and Mars.”</p><p> Eddie looks. “From the Romans, right Buck?”</p><p>Buck grins, pleased. “You remember.”</p><p> Eddie leans in and presses his cheek against the top of Buck’s head, breath blowing into his hair as he says, “How could I ever forget?”</p><p>…</p><p> In the morning they’re on the road again, neither of them having slept much, instead they jolted awake against the other every few tens of minutes, eyes still drawn to the stars and the moon, to the planets and other things. The sun is up and they drive for food and rest. Proper rest that includes closed curtains and cool sheets. Coffee should be the furthest things from their minds, but Eddie finds that he craves it just as suddenly, he’s sure when looking to the passenger seat that Buck feels the same.</p><p> They also need to do laundry again, Buck did run into a reverie in his clothes that he still wears, dry or not, they need to be cleaned. Even if Buck disagrees on that truthful fact. The restaurant they do find is in a small town on the edge of the world almost. It’s got a gas station but Eddie can practically see the dust balls rolling by. When he looks to Buck with raised eyebrows as soon as they stop, Buck only shrugs and Eddie’s not willing to argue, he’s too hungry to.</p><p>“Ann’s diner, take a sea wherever.” The waitress tells them when they enter. It’s mostly empty, but there’s a few regulars, the older crowd with mustaches and hats. With sunglasses and cups of coffee coupled with eggs and bacon. His mouth waters at the thought. Bags of chips just doesn’t cut it.</p><p>“Coffee?” The waitress asks when she comes back. ‘<strong><em>Maggie</em></strong>,’ her nametag reads. She has curly hair and freckles, young but kind it seems.</p><p>“Yes, please.” Eddie tells her, putting his cup forth, eyes flickering to Buck who curls up a little against the wall, seemingly unable to communicate much today. To be near people. It’s why Eddie picked a booth far from the others here. The worry grows, but his hunger is all he can see, he knows Buck must be hungry too not just for food but for proper nutrition. It probably has something to do with his mood. Maddie always insisted on controlling the variables they could like eating and drinking, Buck’s environment. Things like that.</p><p> Eddie doesn’t like when there are things that he cannot control. Leaves him open and vulnerable, as if his feet are dangling off a very large cliff. He gulps and moves Buck’s cup right side up. “Him too.” He tells her. She eyes them both for only a moment before complying. “And water, for the both of us.” He makes sure to say.</p><p> She nods. “I’ll be right back with your water, and here’s our menus.”</p><p> Eddie takes them and skims through it, Buck doesn’t touch it, instead he curls his fingers around some packets of jam, eyeing them all carefully. Eddie reaches for the blinds, closing them quickly. Buck’s breathing evens out a little more, a soft sigh that Eddie doesn’t miss. “We’ll leave soon, Buck, we just need to eat.” He reassures, hands itching to touch, to comfort and holds how he knows how to. Words never did come easily to him, not like they do to Buck in some of his moments. Some not so much.</p><p> Buck doesn’t say anything, or respond. Eddie bites back a sigh of his own.</p><p>“Here’s your water.” She tells him with the cups sitting down.</p><p>“We’re ready to order.” He tells her quickly before she can leave again.</p><p> She slips out of her small pouch a pad and pen. “What can I get you?”</p><p>“Two fried eggs each, toast and beans if you’ve got it. Fresh fruit too.”</p><p> She nods. “Fried tomatoes?”</p><p> That used to be Shannon’s favourite. Eddie nods and she smiles, grabbing the menus. “Coming right up.”</p><p>“Oh, and, an orange juice.” Eddie adds, eyes still on Buck unsure if he will eat anything now. Unsure of a lot of things.</p><p> She nods. “You’ve got it.” And disappears.</p><p> Eddie stares longer at his best friend, his family before pushing the water with a straw closer to Buck. “Drink.” It’s more of an order, and he hates how it comes out but Buck looks up for the first time, eyes meeting his before meeting the water.</p><p>“It has to be boiled, Eddie.” He says, and Eddie’s eyes slip tightly shut against those words. He tries not to think about what they mean.</p><p>“It’s safe, Buck.” He promises, then because he’s desperate and on edge, and very worried and very hungry, he pleads. “<em>Please.</em>”</p><p> Buck bites his lip nervously, hesitance in his eyes but Eddie won’t give up. Forgetting the whole world, forgetting where they are, he reaches out and touches Buck’s hand, gentle in his hold. Careful in his execution. It has the expected reaction, Buck looks up at him and Eddie calmly says the one word he knows will get through, “Trust… Remember?”</p><p> Buck swallows something down and nods, a smile gracing his lips that’s real and happy, suddenly back to his sunny self if even just a little bit. “Trust.” He echoes and takes the cup, drinking down all the water in seconds, but not before listing his eyes up, straw still half in his mouth as he says almost goofily, “You too, Edmundo.”</p><p> Eddie grins back, choking down something like sadness but not quite as he takes his own straw and drinks too.</p><p> When their food comes, Buck won’t eat anything but the eggs. Eddie scoops his onto Buck’s plate and eats the toast and fruit, the beans and tomato. The orange juice was a good idea, because Buck drinks it all, at least getting something from that. Eddie on the other hand doesn’t eat all the food excluding eggs because it’s a lot but he packs it up to go and asks for a few more fried eggs to go with them. Maybe a sandwich if it’s not too much trouble. Maggie agrees easily and Eddie makes sure to leave her a nice tip.</p><p> He gives the keys to Buck and heads to the gas station next door, eyes looking out the window behind him to make sure that Buck is distracted, and he is, fingers twisting the knobs of the radio, before turning to the clerk and asking for his usual pack of twelve. He grabs them and hides them under his shirt. While he turns back to leave, he catches a glimpse of a stand of postcards and stares, cheeks red as if he’s just been caught red handed.</p><p>“And this.” He says with a postcard in hand, the gum he almost forgot too<em>, his excuse</em>. Him and Buck don’t lie to each other, but there is a big difference between lying and not bringing something up. Buck doesn’t tell him everything, but Eddie knows he would if he asked. But Buck also trusts him not to. And this- this goes both ways.</p><p> It’s how he reasons it all. That and- and that maybe he deserves this, vice. Even if he knows that it would be dangerous and unhealthy for Christopher. Even if he knows that his lungs aren’t the best. A bullet tearing that apart will do that to someone. But he doesn’t think about that, because if he does, then he has to think about everything else. And he’d rather wrestles tigers, statesman’s lies, than that… That… <strong><em>hell</em></strong>.</p><p>“Got a postcard.” He tells Buck, and hands it to him.</p><p> Buck stares through his sunglasses and grins, fingers tracing along the desert floor of the picture. “Neato.” He comments.</p><p>“I didn’t know if you’d want your own to send to Christopher…” He trails off as he starts back up the car and heads in the direction of the motel Maggie told them about before they left.</p><p> Buck looks genuinely confused when he glances back to Eddie and asks, “Why would I?”</p><p> Eddie stares back, not pulling out just before something light and airy, a breeze of cool calm filters through him. His heart settles a little as he shrugs. “Just thought you might.” He pulls out and begins driving the few short block away.</p><p>“Maybe one for Maddie.” Buck says.</p><p> Eddie freezes a little, a little guilty at having forgotten about her and her close relationship with Buck. It’s not perfect, but it’s getting better, all the time. He must miss her.</p><p>“On the way out?” Eddie asks.</p><p>“On the way in.” Buck says back, and Eddie’s not sure exactly what he means by that but Buck is slumping into his seat, so Eddie lets it go. For now. They’re almost to the motel anyways.</p><p>…</p><p> Eddie wakes up to the crackling of a radio, and a headache right between his eyes. He feels it thump against his skull as he cracks open his eyes and stares into the ceiling of another motel room, but there’s the smell of coffee and of smoke. He opens his eyes wider and sits up, staring into the back of Buck’s skull, but there is no smoke in sight. None that can be reasoned or reckoned with.</p><p> Buck glances his way but then turns back to what he’s fiddling with, the sound growing strong until it lands exactly where he wants it. He sits back with a cup of coffee in hand and stares intently, sipping occasionally. Eddie can’t help but stare at Buck, head tilted at the scene in front of him as a voice comes through, “<em>12:20, all clear.” </em></p><p> Eddie’s eyebrows raise up into his hairline as he asks with surprise and some concern, “Is that a police radio?” He knows that Buck has one in his basement at home but he never expected him to be holding onto one out here. How he even got it is news to Eddie. Last time he checked his car did not have one, not in the back, not anywhere.</p><p> Buck turns to him, finger over his lips as he says, “Shh.”</p><p> It feels almost dreamlike, but the coffee is strong. Strong enough for Eddie to know that it must be real as he wipes his hands across his face and stands up, padding over to the bathroom to do his business. Coming out to find a cup of steaming coffee sitting next to Buck. He takes it and sips it and pulls up a chair by the other as the radio’s voices come through of honest cops just trying to do their jobs. Something about trying to get a forensics team from a nearby city. Something about an animal attack.</p><p> Not uncommon out here, Eddie is sure, but Buck stares at it as if it could give him all the answers. A queer sort of expression in his eyes, on the upturn of his lips that gives Eddie even more pause. He sips the coffee and looks to the window where it’s still dark, or maybe it’s a new day. A new night. Sometimes it’s hard to tell, sometimes it’s easier to sleep forever. Sometimes it’s easier not to think just as it is easier not to dream.</p><p>“We should go to the wild.” Buck whispers, eyes furrowed as his hand caresses along the radio almost reverently, almost sadly.</p><p> Eddie stares, concern growing for the other. “What are you talking about, Buck?”</p><p>Buck’s eyes dance in a swim of tears. “There’s a monster lurking, Eddie.”</p><p> He does not use that word lightly, <em>monster</em>. It makes Eddie pause and reaches out, a hand on Buck’s head, petting down gently as the other lets a tear fall. Eddie stares, a lump in his throat as some old forgotten pain lands on Buck’s features. It reminds him of when the grass is cold. But his feet are curled up in sandals, their little compromise, and his hands are warm to the touch too.</p><p> His heart squeezes, and the world rights itself a little as he tells Buck, “We can go wherever you want, Buck.”</p><p> Buck’s eyes are shut tightly, and Eddie remembers yesterday at the restaurant, the fear and panic, the overwhelming of emotions in outward anxiety. The hesitancy to drink the water. Nothing significant happened for that kind of reaction, but maybe it isn’t what happened, but what’s going to happen.</p><p>“Buck?”</p><p>“Edmundo.” Buck whispers back, and this his eyes flutter open and he’s smiling twinge in fear, as he nods in acceptance. “Let’s go find the monster.” He stands up then goes for his bag, pushing every inside, back. They didn’t even get to do any laundry, but Eddie follows lead after a few moments of sitting and staring in worry and curiosity. He packs up his own things though, eyes lingering on Buck, on the radio, until he’s carrying it out and they sit in the car. Until he looks over at Buck in the darkness of a new night asks, “Where’d you get the police radio from, Buck?”</p><p> Buck half smiles. “All in good time, Edmundo.” He slips his sunglasses on even though they aren’t needed and says, “West.”</p><p> They go West, and come across police cars with flashing lights, just two. Deputy cars much like at Nicon County where they’re from. Just a small town’s department and job, but the people in uniforms surround a cold and chilly sight. Of blood, of something grizzly. <em>An animal attack is right</em>, thinks Eddie. And he never expected for Buck to take him somewhere like this. He thought this was just conferences. Listening to others stories. Looking at the skies. Seeing second hand facts. A road trip of a break from the stresses and closed doors of their lives. He never expected this.</p><p> He feels almost a taste of something akin to betrayal but not quite, never that.</p><p> Instead he looks to Buck who stares out at the cars and body, not looking Eddie’s way as he reaches into the dash drawer and fishes out Eddie’s police ID. Eddie takes it, almost reluctantly as he stares at it in varying degrees of shock and confusion. He wants to ask, ‘<em>why did you bring this? How did you get it?</em>’ but all that comes out is something soft, “Why are we here Buck?”</p><p>“To see the monster at the end of the book.”</p><p> He turns from Buck to the scene and asks, “What if I don’t want to?” Not fully understanding what Buck means, what even he himself does. This feels faraway, out of his depth. This was not supposed to be about murder and mayhem. “I thought we were just going on a roadtrip, Buck, why are we here at a sight of a body?”</p><p> Buck does not answer him.</p><p> He sighs. “Fine. I’ll go ask, but stay in the car. Can you do that for me?” He stares and Buck who does not look his way, only looking forward, nods.</p><p> When he gets closer, the men in their uniforms, men like him stop him with hands held out front. Eddie looks from face to face, and tries to smile. To charm. “Deputy Diaz, Nicon County. I was just passing though… What happened?” He holds up his ID, both look to it and to his face before something settles there, familiarity as they both relax and nod.</p><p>“Sorry about that, we’re still waiting for forensics from Dayton.” One of them says, ‘<strong><em>Ramirez</em></strong>,’ his badge states.  </p><p>“No problem, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need any help.” His eyes land on the body, torn up and bloody. He stares with narrowing eyes as he goes over the injuries. As a haunted feeling starts to form in his bones. As a memory that’s long since passed etches into his mind’s eye.</p><p>“Just an animal attack.” Ramirez states.</p><p>“Yeah, right.” The other scoffs. ‘<strong><em>Johnson</em></strong>,’ his badge reads.</p><p> Eddie nods. “Looks pretty grizzly.” He examines the area and can’t help but add curiously, “No blood around her either.”</p><p>“Right?” Johnson says excitedly, young enough, just out of training if Eddie had to guess.</p><p>“No jumping to conclusions, remember?” Ramirez states, eyes on his partner, old weathered ones that have seen his fair share of bodies, and- and whatever this is exactly. Eddie stares, the body slashed on her neck, and on her chest, hurried and panicked movements, but no outward blood around her. No real blood loss shown, it’s… It’s odd. She must have been moved, but why?</p><p> And why do the leaves ruffle like that of the jungle?</p><p>“Sorry to bother you.” Eddie finishes and smiles as they exclaim a quick, ‘no problem.’ He’s back in the car with Buck in an instant, his chest tight and breathing heavy. He wants to scream, to yell, but all that comes out is a pathetic, “Why do you do this to me Buck? Why are you so cruel?”</p><p> He turns and stares at the other and Buck stares back, eyes determined. “You can’t outrun your past forever.”</p><p> His words back are bitter and too truthful for first thing in the morning (or night, in this case), “You have.”</p><p> Buck stares stubbornly, but Eddie isn’t finished, and yet the cops stare at them curiously, so he drops it. Drop it until he drives back and they’re in the motel room. Because it seems that they’re not leaving all that easily. They get into the motel and Buck turns to reach into his bag, to grab the police radio and start hooking it up, but Eddie is anger, his fists curl and he hates being pushed and pulled around. Hates this.</p><p> <em>Fuck</em>, at this point he just wants to go home.</p><p>“You know, I find it kind of unfair that you know about all the shit that happened in ‘Nam with me- with- with everything, but I don’t know a single Goddamn thing about what happened with you. All I know is what I’ve heard.” It’s not quite angry, not yet.</p><p> Buck’s shoulders tighten for just a moment before he finishes hooking it up, turning to say, “Me too, Edmundo. Me too… All I know is what I’ve heard.” He taps his head and then looks up to the windows of the room, up to the sky, and Eddie sighs, eyes slipping half shut as he turns and sits down on his bed, head in his hands.</p><p>“Maybe this whole road trip was a bad idea.”</p><p> Buck freezes and turns, finally facing him head on, eyes more intense than ever he replies, “You said…”</p><p>“I know what I said, Buck!” He snaps, then breathes deeply in silent apology, in trying to calm down. His knuckles still ache. His head does. His heart- <em>his very soul. </em>“Don’t you ever just want to go back, to before all of this? To live in blissful ignorance?”</p><p> Buck watches him, silent as a rock before finally he nods, slow and appreciative. “I do, Edmundo. All the time. But I can’t get out… <em>and neither can you.</em>”</p><p> Those last words come from somewhere else.</p><p>Eddie stares and Buck stares right back, knowing that this is finally, all the truth there really is.</p><p> Eddie shakes his head, hands held up because he cannot deal with this. Not really. “I signed up for a road trip, not a murder investigation.”</p><p> Buck grins back cheekily, but no less sad. “Who said it was murder?”</p><p>A woman is dead, but Eddie finds himself smiling back anyway.</p><p>“Let me guess… It was the little green men?” It’s not as joking as it once was, instead there’s a serious tone to it, deathly so.</p><p> Buck stares back and says straight faced, “Grey. They’re grey, not green, Edmundo.”</p><p>Eddie laughs, bursting out into just as Buck does.</p><p>“Why’d you bring me here, Buck?”</p><p>“You know why, Edmundo. You know.”</p><p> He smiles and turns back to the radio, leaving Eddie with some modicum of privacy, enough to look down at his shaking hands. At the tremor that will not cease, as he held the bandage to his wound that would not stop bleeding. As he looked around at the carnage and heard the whispers after the fact, <em>“Some kind of drug… Test went… All dead… We- tried.” </em>He still sees that blood.</p><p> He’s still climbing up that ladder.</p><p> But none of it would have happened if Vietnam wasn’t sanctioned, nor created by the people who claim to value freedom above all else. Who just put forth an illusion of it. Who… Did… This…</p><p> But,</p><p>why?</p><p>“We’ll figure it out, Edmundo.” Buck says as if he can read his mind.</p><p>“Will we Buck?”</p><p>“You’ve seen this before.” Buck says, back still to him, but his meaning clear to what he is referring to. <em>The body. </em></p><p> Eddie nods, sagely, sunken, his voice raggedy and maybe a little bit more broken as he tells him, “Yeah.” He swallows deeply. “But I can’t talk about it.” <em>Classified. Do not repeat of what you’ve seen here today, do you understand? Yes, sir.</em></p><p> He stands up, walking towards the motel door, but is stopped by Buck’s clear and nonjudgmental voice that says, “If you want to smoke, you can just smoke in here.” He feels caught, cat caught in the cream, fell right in. Eddie pauses and looks to Buck who grins. “I don’t mind.” He says.</p><p> Eddie tries to smile back, but it falls flat as he says back to him, “I do.” He turns to leave, but Buck stops him with some final words of, “Edmundo…” And then he’s turning, dark and terrible eyes on his. “I don’t know about war, but I’ve seen Hell too.” </p><p> Eddie doesn’t know what to say to that, so he leaves, shutting the door tightly behind him as he breathes in the outside air, shaky and uncertain. As the stars and moon shine on down below them all. He takes out a cigarette and lights it up, and stares up into that bright orb. Wondering if it’s even real at all.</p><p> <em>If any of this is. </em></p><p> Slowly, he takes off the bandages from his hands, flexing the now closed wound, wondering, if only other wounds would close so easily.</p><p>“Hello, Mr. Moon.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>While real names and events are mentioned, there is inaccuracies in terms of a timeline when certain stories broke and when certain events happened. I encourage you to research some of these things for yourself, and come to your own conclusions.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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